I wrote an old love a new letter. I sealed it with shaky hands and mailed it knowing that it was the right thing to do, yet scared that it would fall on deaf ears and a heart that put out a passionate fire a long time ago. I practiced patience, although I had not felt that anxious in quite some time. My mind wandered. For once, there were no expectations. The ideal outcome would be an appreciative thank you and a feeling of relief knowing that I had said what I wanted to say. Because who wants to live their life wishing they had told someone how they truly felt? Not me. I raced home when I found out there was more to look forward to than I had anticipated. Black and blue ink made me cringe. The words made me laugh. I rolled my eyes when jabs at my favorite team were made, but I smiled at how a familiar disagreement brought endless memories to my mind, memories that made an experience so worthwhile. Tears filled my eyes at times, but I wouldn’t let myself cry, even if it was the happy kind. Because I was happy. That moment, that letter, those memories, those feelings, that love, that loss, that push for reconciliation… it all brought me happiness. The past can hurt, but only if you let it. Send that love letter.
We go back like 1980.