My husband and I began writing love letters to each other six years ago. We don't write every week, not even every month, but over the course of six years, we've filled up quite a few pages of a large spiral bound notebook. I decorated the cover after we'd been writing for awhile, wanting the collection of our lover's thoughts to beautifully illustrate what was inside.
But, it's the words that are the important thing. The words that encourage, dream, inspire. The words that remember, cast vision, and cherish.
We simply write when we have something loving to say and leave it for the other to find on his or her pillow, a gift from the heart.
Some pages have quotes that we found that spoke to us.
Some pages have entire sonnets, written from the voices of old.
Some pages have our own attempt at poetry, some rhyming, some free.
Some pages have lists of what we love about the other.
Some pages have pictures pasted on to them, mementos from our dates together.
Some pages have only a few words, or a simple line of thought.
But, all the pages have love on display.
And my heart never fails to skip a beat when I see the journal lying on my side of the bed, waiting to speak his love to me.
Postscript: I recently read a fictional story of a man who wrote a letter to his wife every single Wednesday. Log on to the author's site here to be inspired.
