I kept the letter in my Math 107 binder all semester. I read it every day, over and over, for 50 minutes. This letter, written by my ex boyfriend of three years, was one that I could recite to you now.
I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that I’m another one of those girls that is dwelling on a boyfriend that she had in high school.
The thing is that it wasn’t about him, or maybe it was, but this letter was something I could never forget. The way the words flowed and fell off the page, it was different than anything I’ve ever read.
I’ve read my fair share of romance novels. I’ve watched the Nicholas Sparks films. I’ve seen and read love stories over and over. This letter was different.
Maybe because he was talking about me and us, or maybe not. This letter, written on college ruled paper, with a smug of coffee in the right corner, showed me the inside of another’s heart.
It gave me hope in everything and anything. It didn’t give me hope in us, because being young and in love isn’t all its cracked up to be, but it gave me hope in people.
It showed me that love is pure and real and not just a made up story Nicholas Sparks writes about.
If you read the letter, I’m not sure if it would impacted you like it did me. That’s what makes it so special though, right?
Each piece of writing is so different and unique. This letter, which had an abundance of comma splices and even more spelling errors, affected me more than a perfectly edited book.
He showed me his heart without any barriers. He showed me a piece of his brilliant soul. With just two pages of words, he gave me hope.
A year has passed since I got that letter in my freshman P.O. box, and tears still boil in my eyes when I read it.
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