A little while ago I returned to my home town to look after my parents dogs whilst they were on holiday.
I felt pensive upon returning for a whole week. It seemed like such a massive expanse of time in a town where the people I knew and loved had moved on or left, and where even the streets were alien in their appearance with hard concrete faces of new buildings, which had sprung up in my three years absence.
It feels incredibly unnatural to be technically home, and yet not feel a link to any of your surroundings or to have to try and remember how to get somewhere.
Whilst sitting in my brothers old childhood bedroom (now the spare room) I stumbled across a battered shoe box which has long stored my favourite trinkets and memorabilia, and even more importantly, those precious love letters you receive during adolescence.
I made a cup of tea and sat cross legged on the new carpet, sifting my way through awkward teenage kisses, first dates, and words of such tenderness and sincerity it made my heart ache.
I lack the nerves to post up my own love letters, but apparently not everyone is as reluctant as I. It would appear there is a lot of love out there…some of them are really very sweet.
A scan of a letter from Frida Kahlo to her Diego.
I guess I’m in a hopelessly sentimental mood tonight, but surely everyone should be able to recall the first moment someone ‘longed to be with them again’.
Always and Forever,
Yours Truly x
‘My darling, never forget that I never forget you’