by Bill Shapiro
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Subject: money and house stuff
Molly and her husband divorced after eight years of marriage. Both are in relationships now and they remain friends.
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You sure looked good in those sweats
Chris and Roz were high school sweethearts. But during his freshman year of college, Labor Day weekend of 1984, Chris was killed in a car accident. Roz has saved the note and maintained a close relationship with Chris’s mother for more than twenty years.
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Dear beautiful
It was another blind date; this time her uncle had set her up. The plan: Meet outside of her fancy Midtown Manhattan office building. How would she recognize him? “I’ll be the guy with the hole in his boot,” he told her. And there he was, covered in dust from his construction job, with a big hole in his fraying boot. What was supposed to be one drink turned into two … then a ride on the Ferris wheel in Toys R Us … then dinner. He wrote her this note exactly two months after their first date, delivering it rolled up and tied with a string, along with two red roses. They were married in July 2006.
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Will you be my wife?
His girlfriend was always the photographer. She’d somehow managed to capture every one of their special occasions with a Polaroid—their first New Year’s Eve together, holding hands on a trampoline, the night they watched for falling stars. So it just seemed right, he thought, to capture the memory of his proposing to her. On November 5, 2005, he asked her to look for a surprise inside the drawer of a small table. While she rifled through the drawer, he got down on one knee beside her. When she finally found this Polaroid, he had the ring waiting. She looked up from the picture, and he asked her to marry him. She said yes.
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Mi flor
The couple met during an intimacy exercise at a weekend workshop called “The Miracle of Love.” He had just gotten out of a relationship and was more trying to figure out what went wrong than looking to meet anyone. But there she was. They’ve been together two years and recently held a commitment ceremony at California’s Joshua Tree National Park.
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Nude
This card was written several months into the couple’s second attempt at a relationship. It was left for its recipient on the bed, and read in private later that evening. This time, they’ve been together for two and a half years. (The word “neyuwl” was, until very, very recently, one of the couple’s private jokes.
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On the occasion of my being made aware of the birth of our firstborn
Ellen spotted Jack at a college bar. He was a junior—and very cute. They fell in love. She became a teacher in Harlem; he became a Marine, a lieutenant. They were married in February of 1968 and moved to the base in Quantico, Virginia. She was well into her pregnancy when, in March of 1969, Jack shipped out to Vietnam. They exchanged frequent letters and audiotapes, and even talked on the phone once. Their son was born on June 6. On June 30—just a few days before he was set to leave Vietnam and see his boy for the first time—Jack was killed. Ellen saved every one of his letters and, thirty years later, their son, John Hulme, used the letters—including this one—to retrace his father’s movements during the war. Ultimately, he and Ellen found the very spot in Vietnam where Jack lost his life. John made the documentary film Unknown Soldier about their experience.
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While you were out getting stoned
This note, left on her desk by a coworker, ignited a first date for the last night of 1999. The couple married in 2004.
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A year with Pooks and Dude
Judith (“Dude”) created this booklet in 1970 for her husband Jonathan (“Pooks”) to commemorate their first year of marriage. After thirty-seven years, they’re happily married with three grown children and two grandchildren.
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It’s a dusty one today
This letter was sent from Iraq, where the author was flying Blackhawk helicopters. The couple met in high school, in 1977, and married in ′81; they have three grown children. He’s completed two tours of duty in Iraq and is expecting to return for a third.
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I can’t call you on your birthday
Erica Smith blogged this open letter to her boyfriend, Ben Stern, on what would have been his thirty-sixth birthday. He died of a heart attack on January 23, 2005, while the couple was walking through a park during a blizzard after midnight.
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Braille
After the Great Depression, when jobs were still hard to find, a carpenter began working at a residential institution for the blind. There, he met a secretary. She was plucky and sociable, and although she had lost her sight in her early twenties, she could still type. She typed him love notes and he taught himself Braille so he could write back. He gave her this card for Valentine’s Day with the card’s message lovingly, if not accurately, translated in Braille and signed “love from Pete.” They married and had one child, who shared this letter.
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I think you know how much my life has changed
She was a summering legal intern, he was an attorney, and, yes, they met in the copy room. She was Xeroxing stacks of documents and he kept coming in to make tea. On his tenth trip for tea that morning he said “hi” and asked her to lunch; they started dating that day. The note was written at the end of her internship. They’ve been dating for three years.
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Mr. H Goldberg: Your letter on hand
Frieda, the daughter of a rabbi, lived in Toledo, Ohio. While visiting Springfield, she met Harry, a man in his mid-twenties, who owned a small mom-and-pop grocery store. Harry’s story was compelling: At sixteen, he had emigrated, by himself, from Poland to New York, where he worked in the sweatshops, and then from the sweatshops to Springfield. This note was written in response to one of his first letters to her. Their quick courtship played out entirely on paper—they never dated before they were married, when she moved to Springfield. They lived in a house attached to the grocery store (open 7 a.m. to 9 p.m.), where they both worked. Frieda and Harry had three children and were married for fifty-eight years.
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I might marry you
Jacob and Phoebe have been friends since they were infants. Both are still single.
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Darling
In the mid-thirties, a traveling salesman (he specialized in jeans, boots, and Western gear) walked into a shop in Trinidad, Colorado, hoping to make a sale. When he saw a stunning young woman working at the counter, he asked her out for a Coke instead. They went on a couple of quick dates—including a boat ride on a pond where she plucked a small stone from the shore as a souvenir—before he got back on the road. He continued traveling and their courtship unfolded almost entirely by mail. They married in 1939 and remained madly in love until he died in 2001. When she died two years later, she was buried with the stone she had kept from that first boat ride.
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Reasons why I love Kay
Don and Kay were married for twenty-four years. Not long after this note was written—composed, as Don says, “as a gift”—Kay was killed in a highway car accident.
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Subj: (no subject)
This e-mail was written by the husband hours before he was going into surgery … just in case. He pulled through, and they recently celebrated their twenty-first anniversary.
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Hello, Cheryl. What’s happening?
Cheryl was sixteen, and living at home in Rhode Island. Ricky was in the Marine Corps stationed in Hawaii. Her brother, also in the Corps, also in Hawaii, suggested that Ricky become pen p
als with his kid sister. And so they began writing back and forth … and back and forth. Over four months, she wrote him more than sixty letters; he wrote her more often—one a day until he was shipped home. (His very first letter is included here.) His home, as it turned out, was just thirty-five miles from where she lived. The first time they saw each other was when she picked him up at the airport. After dating for two and a half years, they were married in 1979. Every once in a while, she says, they still take out the letters—they’ve saved them all—and “laugh at how young we were.”
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Jane: Look, I’m incredibly confused.
The couple dated for two months.
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Subject: Hey babe
They connected on an Internet dating site and e-mailed for a month before meeting each other. This e-mail was written a few days before their first date: She picked him up at the train station and there he was, holding a rather large bouquet of flowers. It was, she says, love at first sight. They’ve been together for two years.
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TEXT OF SELECTED LETTERS
25 more days
July 23, 1992
Hi baby –
I miss you!
I haven’t talked to you for 2 days! That’s two days too long!
How are you doing?
Right now I am studying for my Big FINAL tonight. I am reading the chapter on Interpersonal attraction and all I can think of is you.
Well, here’s some definitions for us:
Passionate love: An intense and often unrealistic emotional response to another person. It is interpreted by the individuals involved as “love”. Well, we do have passionate love, but we also have
Companionate love: Love that rests on a firm base of friendship, common interests, mutual respect, and concern for the other person’s happiness and welfare.
My book say companionate love is the best kind & it is the love that keeps a relationship going. I think we have strong companionate love, what do you think?
I guess I should get back to studying! I love you!
Sally :)
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To my Darling Husband,
Who would believe that almost four decades have passed and my love for you is still the focus of each and every day of our lives.
Many years ago you told me that you would always be my best friend. At the time I thought that statement was cute but somewhat meaningless—How wrong I was! Throughout all these years you have been not only my best friend, but my champion, my lover, my advisor, my buddy, my cheering squad and my support for all the myriad of incredible situations that constantly occur.
I cherish all the moments we share and hope that the next decade of years is kind to us so that we can celebrate our lives together and reap the goodness we constantly seek.
Know always that I love you and feel complete as your partner in life.
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Darling, I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a long time. How about a photograph of you? There is a spot on my dresser that my eye catches the first thing in the morning and the last thing at night and I can think of nothing I’d like better than to have your picture there—
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Dear Daniel,
Thank you for a great week—You brought back a smile in me that doesn’t surface all that much. Although the choice I made this week may not have been a totally wise choice, I don’t regret it and I’m so glad I got the to meet you + know you + smooch you too. I wanted you to know that your conversation stimulated me, your intellect impressed me, your body amazed me and your smile melted me.
The first thing Theo said to me was that I looked different—And he was right—I feel different
You’ve opened up a side of me that I wasn’t really sure I wanted to see—but here it is and I’m dealin’ with it.
I have to go now—but thanks again for such a great time
xoxo
Di
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4-15-03
Dear Lesli,
It’s a dusty one today. Our tent has no floor, so the dust is everywhere. At least the wind is keeping the heat down.
They say we should be moving even further north; probably by the time you get this. But it seems the farther away you get, the better and faster the support comes, since they’re almost forced to fly it in on C130’s.
I guess it’s green and cooler there, so if we have to spend the summer here, it’ll be tolerable. I’m of course hoping they just let all of us come home, and let some other country handle the occupation crap.
I have a feeling there’ll be alot of idle time, just waiting to get the hell out of here.
They gave us some bottled water today, so I get a break from the chlorine! I’m going to save all the lemonaid for the “hard times.” Keep sending that stuff! Water is truly like gold out here. Nothing else matters if you don’t have that.
By the time you read this, I’m sure your birthday has come and gone, and maybe even our 22nd.
I just want you to know how much I love you, and how much you matter to me. I’ve got your picture in front of my ID card in my wallet, so every time I pull it out, I see your smiling face, and beautiful eyes.
So I hope your birthday was wonderful, and that the kids made you a cake!
I miss you like a cool breeze, and the muddy smell of a new spring complete with flowers, and green grass.
Love,
Gregory :)
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August 3, 1976
Hello Cheryl,
What’s happening? Yeah, this is Ricky, the guy that was so anxious to write!
I guess I should start by telling you about myself. Even though I sent a picture I mind as well tell you what I look like, my height is 5’11”, brown hair and blue eyes.
Before I say anymore you’d better sit down and relax cause this is going to be a rather long letter.
As far as what kind of personality I have, I really don’t know, but if it helps alot of people call me & Jim brothers. Plus of the fact he and I are always around each other. I’m also a very affectionate person and I can be rather forward at times. (Like I said, at times).
I graduated from St. Louis High School of Hawaii, this sounds rather wierd but it’s rather a long story to explain.
I have a father, 4 sisters and one brother. I just thought I’d just give you a more or less of an idea of what kind of family I come from. Of course Jim told you that I come from Dartmouth, Mass. And the fact that I have 4 months left in the corps. (I can’t wait for that day.)
Cheryl, I don’t know what kind of letter you would call this but I’m not used to writing girls I haven’t really met. So, I hope you’ll bear with me. Okay
In case your wondering, I was engaged once, (a year ago) but I’d rather not go into details about a past thing.
Beleive it or not, I live about 15 minutes away from your house. I guess it was fortunate to meet Jim. Jim and I have already made plans of me going to pick him up at the airport next year. I imagine we’ll always be friends.
You wouldn’t believe some of things your brother and I have done.
I found out a little about you before I wrote, and Cupid has come to the conclusion that you and I would get along great. (But don’t tell Jim).
Well, Cheryl I don’t think I should make this letter much longer, cause I don’t like getting bored either! HA HA I don’t know what kind of ending I should put, maybe you know, but for now I’ll just have to sign my name!
Ricky
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Hello! I’m bored. I had nothing better to do. I’m gonna be at Tom’s house, and then go to the game. I hope you can come.
(Here goes nothing) will you go out with me? I know you’ll say “No,” and you probably won’t talk to me, plus U like … (of course U know). I’ll be at Tom’s so call me there (_ _ _ - 3950). If you say “N
o” (which will happen), can we still be friend
DON’T TELL EMILY SHE WAS RIGHT!
See Ya.
Sobo
P.S. If you say “Yes” (It won’t happen), we better talk to each other more, than U and Kraft.
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I know that dollar-wise things have been a little tight, and looking back a little unfair, too. You know that eventually things are going to ease up a bit, and in the mean-time, I promise to make it more fair. The whole situation is unfair to you. You shouldn’t have to sacrifice like this, but you have done so willingly and cheerfully. I really appreciate it! You’re a champ.
I’m doing everything I can to make our evenings together, longer. I hope you’ll be patient until, one way or another I start getting home earlier.
I thank you for all you’ve done for us, endured for us, and loved for us. My marraige is so important to me – because of whom I married. You’ve made me the happiest, most happiest, of all happy.