Love letters

November 10, 2008

I’ve been on a cleaning spree for several weeks now, part of an ongoing minimizing project.

Tonight, I finally tossed some old love letters. These were letters that my ex-wife wrote to me when I was a freshman in college, after we had reconnected when I came home on Easter break. This reconnection was after a previous summer romance right before our sophomore year in high school. A few months after these letters started, she would become pregnant over Memorial Day with our daughter.

The letters were written on blue paper, or stenography paper later, when she ran out of the paper that matched the blue envelopes that were addressed to my old dormitory. They had three different return addresses depending on where she was living in the few months the correspondence happened, her mother’s house, her sister’s house, or an apartment she rented in the town she grew up in.

I’ve had those letters for 30 years. Thirty-years.

I’ve thought of tossing them any number of times. I had wondered if our children would find them after I was gone. They wouldn’t have given a damn, really.

If I stopped for a bit to think about it, I would find myself wondering, why toss them now?

But the real question, I guess, is why did I keep them so long?

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