(yesterday, in a box i'd forgotten even existed, i found this big pile of old letters)
a bunch of letters in airmail envelopes, awkward handwriting and drawn hearts, from when we spent months apart, written at a time when there was still a naïve hope for us.
a few short letters, in that messy handwriting that was so strangely unlike mine, written at a time when all of her care and concern felt almost suffocating.
one letter that was almost impossible to read because he had no strength left in his hands, written at a time when we all knew that it was just a matter of months.
a couple of letters, handwriting almost like mine, in the envelope was faded pictures of their little family, written at a time when i still looked up to him.
several postcards, in that well-known round schoolgirlish handwriting, silliness, inside jokes and stories, written at a time when we were absolutely inseparable.