Your letter is lying on my bedside table, unopened and soaked in sadness. It reached me this morning. I remember how you always cherished writing letters and termed email as an easy and cheap alternative. I remember being judged on my preference for emails. “Such a nagging tech buff you are Sarah! I hope one day you understand how amazingly surreal it feels to pull out an old rustic letter sent by a loved one.” I do understand you now Nehal. The sudden gush of nostalgia you talked about and old memories unfolding right in front of my eyes. It’s magical just like the little pleasures of life but, you are not here Nehal and every bit of it kills me from the inside.
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