Letters of Love Part 1: The Pink Paper

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I opened it today. A tin can filled with letters of love. Letters from friends, letters from suitors, letters from family. This is a tin can that makes me smile when I open it. It gets opened, at most, once a year. It will get spotted as I reach into the far corners of "The Cave", which is the large closet under the stairs. The place I tuck away holiday decor, mass quantities of paper towels and Kleenex, junk I can't seem to part with and memories. And so while I am in the dark reaches of the cave searching for something else, my eye catches the tin can, and begs me to open it.

Today I opened it.

In it, towards the front, tucked into its original envelope was my first real love letter. "To Cambria, From Jayson". It was given to me in the 4th grade. The envelope is white, the paper pink, typewritten. It reads, with a few omissions to protect his identity and with all its grammatical and spelling imperfections, as such:

DEAR CAMBRIA


You don't know me that well. But i think you should know how i feel Patrick told you something. And i was not awair of it. At first i was atracted by your buttiy. and gorgus hair but i was not sure what you were like in side. When patrick told you and you came over. I was left with a yes or no question. If i seid no i might have hurt your feeling's. If i seid yes all of this would have hapend. i would have rather watted until i knew that i was truele in love with YOU. but if you think that what you did was right. then i have something to say. i am not just an ordinary kid you hardly even know my I.Q. genus starts at about one hundred an thertty. my I.Q. is about one hundred an seventy if you think i am a lire. just wate and find out. i have lots of talents you probaly have seen me doing front flips on the playground


i don't realy care wether or not you decide if you love me (...) i am veary STRONG AND MUSCLAR i am a veary good fighter and i can take care of my self and others i am around.  

WITH LOVE
YOURS TRULY
JAYSON.

I don't remember Jayson. I don't have any clue who "Patrick" is. I can try to read between the lines of this love letter about what was going on. What I do know is that it meant enough to me to keep it all these years. 20+ years to be more accurate. It must have consoled me as I got near my awkward early teen years, to know that someone was "truele" in love with me and thought I had "gorgus" hair (memory serves me as having straggly hair in my youth...), if only for a day or week. Someone spotted this pretty pink paper and thought it befitting of me. Someone carefully chose his words as he typed them on this pastel canvas.

Letters aren't the same as emails, although I am guilty of subscribing to the latter these days. Letters of love have a distinct smell, and curl up under your fingers as you unfold them. I had printed out many emails for just this reason and tucked them into this tin can in my early 20's when email became the prefered communication means. I hope when I have children I can encourage them to hold on to these keepsakes. I hope my friends will encourage their daughters to hold on to theirs...

So many letters of love and friendship. So many carefully chosen words and hearts worn on their sleeves. So many confessions, so many memories, so many heartfelt condolences. These are my letters from you.

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