When I was in Dallas for my high school reunion, Mom and I spent Saturday morning digging through her storage unit. We were after some pretty specific gems (reading material for Cringe), but hell if I didn’t get sidetracked and eventually compelled by nostalgia into bringing back much more than my high school diary.
Among the pile, my journalism class string book (nerd!), trinkets from my great-grandmother, clippings from my high school paper, and a box marked, FRAGILE! DO NOT DESTROY! I wish I hadn’t left my camera in Dallas, because you’ve just got to see this box. And how dead serious it is about not being fucked with.
It all makes sense, of course, once you know that it holds every single note that The Boy ever wrote me in high school.
We exchanged notes and letters for six years. Our college correspondence has followed me from apartment to apartment, pages of letters signed, Always tucked into plastic sheets and catalogued by date. (As an aside: Strangely, and although I know they existed, I can’t find a single note or letter from the year his mother died. Which is probably for the best. We were far too young to have handled that with much grace.) But for years now, this box has been the missing piece.
This afternoon, in preparation for opening the box (I figured I could ignore the Do Not Open warning, as it was written in my own handwriting), I, clicked on iTunes for something properly nostalgic. I threw together an awe-inspiring mix of The Cranberries, Sarah McLaughlin and Candlebox and sat in the middle of my living room floor with a cup of coffee, wishing I still had a flannel shirt or a pair of Doc Martens.
Then I dug in.
I’d unfolded the first note, read the only the first few lines and was suddenly overtaken with the feeling that I should look away – that I was invading someone’s privacy. I almost closed the box and left it to marinate for another thirteen years. But I’ve never been one to leave well enough alone so I read on.
Maybe it’s that they were written many years before either of us learned to be scared of sincerity – before we discovered that in order to be desirable we had to be coy and mysterious and aloof – but his notes are so unsophisticated and boyish and charming. I know I was young, but I realized that thirteen years ago, I really did love that boy. I would have had to.
I also realized that no one writes to me like this anymore.
We’re all so guarded as grown ups, worried about how we’ll be received, peppering our messages with emoticons and backtalk so that if ever questioned, we can say, “Oh, no, I didn’t really mean that. See, I put in a cute little winky face!â€ù
I know I do it all the damn time — much safer in my sarcasm.
There wasn’t a whole lot to being fifteen that was safe or comfortable – which is why it surprises me that we were so at ease with scribbling our teenage hearts onto cheap notebook paper, shoving them into the pockets of letterman jackets to give to his friend to give to your friendâ€_
It really is amazing that we didn’t employ emoticons a whole lot sooner. Because, what’s more fragile than a teenage ego?
I had a box like that. It was too depressing. I printed everything up (everything is safer in Times New Roman), burned it to a cd, and recylcled the hard copies. Those three cds are all I have left of a two year relationship.
I wish people would write letters more often… and not just love letters. However, I do think that if I received a love letter from a guy in the mail today, I’d probably fall head over heals in love him – no questions asked
I read this and I knew *exactly* how you were feeling. I have a box for each of the special people in my life, minus my ex-husband because he wasn’t that special. I’ve opened the lid with awe and reverence and lost myself in the scent of aged ink and the faded scents of colognes and perfumes from the sweeter days of my existence. How bittersweet it is now that I think about it.
Thank you for sharing your moments with us.
Love,
The Butterfly Temptress
I only dated 2 boys. I dated boy #1 for 3 years during high school. I was sure I was in love with him. I dated boy #2 for 3 months and married him. That marriage recently ended 4 months after our 30th anniversary. He broke my heart.
I ran into boy #1 yesterday in the grocery store. He was in town for a college football game. The flood of emotions was almost too much. I came home and dug out “my box”. My tears were a combination of nostalgia, a broken heart and most likely menopause.
Boy #1 was sweet to me yesterday. He hugged me, told me I am beautiful and assured me that everything will be ok.
He was at 16 a sweet guy and still at 51 is a sweet guy.
I had a very similar experience when reading my teenage journal entries. I would say “Anna Smith is a mean person who makes people feel bad about themselves so she can feel good.” Now, the entires just say “Anna Smith is a bitch.” I should really channel that 16 year-old thinker I once was.
VERY well written! could you get in touch with this guy again?
I had a box like this long ago. My mom threw it away in one of her fits.
Because of the meaning these letters and things hold, I make sure to send cards with my honest feelings to those I care about. Living 3000 miles from my childhood friends allows for setimates like that often.
Thanks again for allowing us into your world.
I remember those notes. Sigh…oh I want them again!
what a lovely post.
You are truly gifted! I miss my box, living thousands of miles from anyplace I called home. Oh well! Bravo!
I wonder if Teens today still write hand-written notes like that or if it is all over e-mail. I have kept the majority of notes and letters I have ever received and am thankful for it. Lovely.
When my boyfriend and i worked at the same place, i let him use my locker since he didnt have one. and I remember one day I was upset and he knew I was having a really bad day and when I left to go home, there I found my favourite chocolates along with a sweet little note. And so then it started, us writing notes back and forth to each other, even though we saw each other every day. There was something so sweet about reading those notes and the warm fuzzy feelings it gave you reading them. I kept every single one.
I checked in on your blog last night when there were only four comments. Even then, I was moved. (I’m not diminishing your post at all; it was powerful, profound in a very intimate way, and it’s prompted the comments it has, so it goes without saying that it’s very good stuff indeed) I check in this morning and find even more quite lovely offerings.
I’m a guy, a middle-aged guy and I know exactly the tenor of your post, the resultant comments. My life is currently presenting circumstances that are reminscent of what’s been written here, so I’m finding it all especially resonant.
Wow. Talk about heartsore waves…
I applaude that you choose period specific music to re-open the box. After all, in 1993, angsty music sold as well as flannel shirts and Doc Martin’s. It’s on odd feeling, to kind of look at yourself and mark the changes in your personality. Anyway, great story. But I must say, having attended a Candelbox concert in ’93 or ’94, your mention of them makes me feel old. Oh wait, I am! Carry on.
Heather,
I can totally picture you sitting there, coffee in hand and looking through the box. You’re posts are so very desriptive and make me feel like I’m right there!
I have a box too… but it was made over a year ago after a relationship gone bad- and I haven’t been able to look at it in a long time. Perhaps I should be waiting 13 years for that one too. Not sure I’m ready to deal with those emotions.
Great post!
I don’t have a box or at least not yet, but I am known for adding emoticons to everything just to signify sarcasm, because there’s no way that I could be completely serious about anything. I think technology gives us that age, that protective barrier and the ability to say, “oh, but you didn’t hear the inflection in my voice, I was totally kidding when I said I love you and I want to have your babies”
Not that that’s ever happened to me of course..
Excellent, excellent post. So very true.
My God, girl! I’m older than you (and certainly ages beyond high school), but you have an uncanny ability to write what I’m living at the moment…. “before either of us learned to be scared of sincerity” Amazing. I’ve been hell-bent on being sincere, and it hasn’t been working so hot.
I suddenly have the urge to go dig up my box. You’re right, we are way to guarded as adults and it gets worse each time we are “burned” by a relationship. Do you still talk to this boy?
oh, good for you – good luck at Cringe!
In answer to Jessie, who wondered if teenagers today still do the handwritten notes thing…Many of us don’t. We IM or text our feelings so that they’re stunted and incomplete. It makes for quite a disparity, considering how we feel in our hearts…But as a newly-minted non-teenager (as of yesterday, I can no longer claim that angst excuse), I can verify for myself that my boyfriend and I do send each other “love letters”. It is most likely the obvious result of distance. But having this wrinkled, folded piece of paper, scrawled all over in his med-student’s chickenscratch, complete with his doodles and corrections, is of infinitely more worth than any email or saved IM conversation. I have a box too, although it’s a bit premature, I suppose. There is nothing I hold more dear than my letters, my journals — the record of who I was, and maybe who I still am. We are fragile people; our emotions are delicate things. But opening ourselves back up, revisiting ourselves — that will always be imperative.
Just be thankful that you didn’t do as I: threw your box away at the request of a current boyfriend witout the self-esteem to imagine I had a past without him — only to discover he was (of course!) not worth it. I miss that box.
Great blog. Reminds me of the first time I felt rejection from a boy at 13. Confusion was everywhere, had to write to my YM magazine editor and ask her why I was feeling this odd, sad emotion over someone I barely liked. After that I learned to guard myself all to well.
OMG KD! YM got me through some very trying times in my youth. LOL
Haha! I totally kept notes from my own boy too! They’re still in my old bedroom in my mother’s house, but I dare say, I have read them several times since they were written in the 7th grade.
You should just call me Chandler Bing.
I threw my box out after the boy I dated for 3 years in high school cheated on me with a 15 year old (I was 18 and he was almost 20) I’d love be able to read some of that but i only have the pictures still.
Would we be better or worse off if we channeled our teenage accessiblity? I’m not sure. It definitely helps us connect to people but it definitely helps us get hurt- is it worth it?
Ha! You loved “Kissing Jessica Stein”, did you not? I’ve been marinating on things ever since.
aw… if only you had a conveniently located PLP with a digital camera. You unlucky thing you.
you’re right..
as adults, we put disclaimers at the bottom of the post its that are our lives.
I enjoyed the post.
A girlfriend of mine once wrote her father a letter for Christmas. I sometimes consider writing letters to random people to be totally open with them. Like my cousin, who went from a self-conscious, heavy teenager to a confident, thin, female police officer. I wanted to tell her how amazing her transformation was, how it was from the outside.
Recently I have considered writing anonymous notes to women at work, telling one that I think she is the most beautiful woman in our office and why (it’s her personality) and the other how much I admire the work that she does and that I hope she is overwhelmingly successful.
I find that one of the few strengths that I have is to share vulnerabilities with people so that they can see they are not alone in their (sometimes irrational) fears. It is much like what happens here on your blog, only in person. The kind of thing that happened in the middle of the night in the study lounge in college. Like that.
Maybe it’s that they were written many years before either of us learned to be scared of sincerity - before we discovered that in order to be desirable we had to be coy and mysterious and aloof…
Man, you just characterized my entire “dating” situation right now. Maybe our teenage selves really did have the best idea of what love is, and maybe we adults know nothing at all, in the end. Hmph.
jessie – teens still write notes, but fill them with emoticons!
don’t ask me how i know this….
Roonie, you may be on to something
Jessie-just thought I would put in my 2 cents worth.My high school days weren’t that long ago[even though I feel like they were ages ago],and I remember writing notes to my boyfriend(s),whoever it happened to be at the time,all the time.I was one of the only people at my high school that did,but that was probably because most people were too lazy.I don’t know about teenagers now,but I’m sure I probably used up trees and trees worth of paper with all my notes!I think that writing notes to someone,whether it’s a significant other or just a friend,is such a great thing.It takes such more time and emotion to do it,which is probably why I wrote so many.Emails and IMs just don’t mean as much as letters do-they have so little emotion to them…then again,I don’t think it’s just adults that are taught to censor and hold in their emotions-I think that extends to young adults today too.It’s what we’re taught by society…evryone trying to be who other people want them to be,and being afraid to show their true selves.
Fish,
This is one of the most sincere and insightful posts I’ve read in awhile. I just love it.
I just moved in with my boyfriend a week ago and in the midst of packing up all my wordly posessions, I came accross my own box. Inside are the leftovers from a three year high school relationship: letters, pictures, conversation hearts (yes, as in the candy. Sad, I know.), cards, etc. Two of my girlfriends were helping me pack, and I asked their opinion on whether I should throw the box out now that I am making a big move in my current relationship (first time moving in with a boyfriend!). Also, I worried he may come accross it some day and not understand why I would keep letters from a long over relationship. One of my friends strongly suggested throwing it out, and the other said keeping it would be the best idea. I was apprehensive, but in the end I decided to keep it, condensing its contents down to only the letters and a few pictures. After reading your post, I feel much more pleased with my decision. Thanks for sharing your memories!
Fish,…oh if only you knew the emotions that stirrrrr within me. LOVE your posts becuase it’s the only place that I can find sincerity, and real emotion(S)! Keep on being human while the rest of us can only pretend.