here is an excerpt from one of them.
I think letters are a bit underrated. The art of correspondence has been lost to the closer connectivity of email. Letters do feel so much more personal, it's such a great feeling looking in your mailbox and seeing that you got a letter from an old friend, or a new one. Those sorts of letters fill your heart with joy, because you feel remembered. That person PAID to send you mail, they cared enough to write a three page, one page, 20 page letter to you, and to pay to send it. So I feel like writing a letter to my friends, make them feel special like that.
For all that what I am doing right now isn't a lot to write about, I have dreams, and goals, and memories to share with you, to tell you about. But first off I need to tell you what I'm up too (that is how it usually goes eh?)
Running is so fun. That is why i'm ecstatic about the beginning of track season. Though our team does not yet have a coach we started training Monday. We ran 2 miles Monday, 2 miles Tuesday, I ran 5 and a half miles Wednesday, and 2 miles yesterday, and 2-3 miles today. That sounds like a lot, but its not to me, because the joy I derive from running is quite present. The pain I sometimes get makes me feel more alive. After a good hard run you feel EVERYTHING and that's good. I feel muscles I did not know I had, and that makes me truly comprehend the fact that I am ALIVE.
Also I'd like to tell you the story about one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen. (there's no flattery involved or anything.)
I was on a bus in Mexico, on the Yucatan peninsula. This area is Mayan country. I forget what my sister and I were going off to see (we have a trip together every year, this last years trip was to Mexico). We had gotten into a habit of sitting in the front right side seat of the bus so we could see out the front window and see all this beautiful green land, and all of these beautiful brown people. On this particular bus there was a young woman with either her mother or her grandmother. To most she would seem rather ordinary. But her eyes, they were a deep beautiful blue. to see this beautiful Mayan girl, with a rather round face with these strikingly blue eyes made me feel quite enamored. But at first, and even shortly after I did not fully comprehend the beauty of this girl. Until I looked at many girls, many boys, many men, many women, and saw how few had these blue Spanish eyes did I realize that I had seen something that in all of my travels I may never again encounter. But not only did this girl have eyes of sapphire, she could sing. To entertain themselves she and her mother/grandmother sand songs, folk songs. The mesh of voices, old and ragged, yet still beautiful, and young and pure, was enough to make the bus ride much less monotonous than any other I have ever been on.
I have so many vivid memories like that. Of different places different people. I can occasionally remember whole conversations. But it's so amazing to me what sticks with me. I hadn't thought so highly of this Mayan/Spanish girl when I saw her, but in retrospect she was amazing. That's how it is with so many things though. You don't realize what you have until it is gone. With friends I only miss those who are no longer with us, or in this town. That means I don't appreciate my other friends as much. I suppose this is really just a way to show my appreciation, to tell you of things which, though I have told them to others, mean a lot to me.