Just now, I found two cards from years gone by, one from my best friend and the other from an ex-lover. 

I'm a sentimental woman. I keep cards and notes and letters, even sticky notes with thoughtful messages ... the ones with soul pieces im-printed on them. I like to imagine where that person was when they wrote those words, where I was when I first read them ... physically, mentally, emotionally. Was there music in the background, and, if so, what was it? Was it the chatter of strangers, birds chirping, ocean waves crashing onto the shore, cars rushing by in the late of the night, raindrops puttering on a window? Maybe they were sipping a cup of coffee and inhaling deeply the woodsy aroma. Were they inside or outside? Was there a sweet breeze rustling against their face and through their hair? What did their face look like? Contemplative? Sweet? Were they wearing PJs, a summer dress maybe? 

It's an almost lost art, this writing letters and cards and such. But, I love seeing the curves of their handwriting, the scratched out letters, the words inserted with arrows, misspellings, and underlined phrases. It's like taking a walk down an unknown street, noticing the architecture, landscaping, light fixtures, and cracks on the sidewalk ... the smell of linden trees and the crescendo-decrescendo of traffic. 

all the people, all the people ... in and out ...   

to all of you who ever loved me, thank you. It's a special thing to be loved. Thank you for opening your soul, inviting me in to sacred corners where your dreams reside, trusting me with your heart ... thank you