Beauty of letters

Read a letter from an old friend, and I almost cried. There is something about the past, immortalized in the form of words, that is starkly beautiful. How much things have changed since then. It is almost as if that past had never existed, or maybe belonged to an entirely different universe. But for a fleeting moment, we are given the chance to live those experiences, to look past the fog that shrouds the road behind us. The experience feels so new, and yet all so familiar; so heartwarming, and yet so painful; for what a marvelous and curious time has been left behind, that shall never be felt ever again.

Also, you wrote quite elegantly.



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