"I am large. I contain multitudes." - Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

Monday, September 27, 2010

Do you know what I miss?

I miss the singular joy of reading a long missive written from the heart of a loved one. A letter that traversed the oceans only to arrive for my eyes to feast on, to get drunk on the words. An essay written to regale me with the minutiae of a life I do not lead, but one that is precious to me, which then makes every detail important and of consequence. A letter imploring me to share in another's journey, even for just a brief moment. A letter whose sole purpose is to reach out to me, and in so doing, touch my heart.

That is what I miss.

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