I guess a love for post goes back to being a kid. All children love post, don’t they? You’re not lucky enough to get much post when you’re little, and so that odd birthday card from a distant relative that you’ve never met is so exciting, you can barely contain yourself! Most people grow out of that love, because the older you get, the more frequent and boring your letters become, and so the novelty wears off.
Until you get to university. Being so far away from home means that post starts to get interesting again, and has an amazing ability to leave you grinning from ear to ear. I’m excited for my weekly letter from my nan, but no matter how hard I wish, I don’t usually find much else of interest in the post box. There’s often a few random forwarded pieces of junk mail from my mum, but I’ll be lucky if I find much else with my name on it. Without a doubt, the most exciting part (albeit a little annoying) part of post now I’ve moved, are parcels. I always get a strange feeling of butterflies when I get an email to tell me I’ve a parcel to collect. Whilst I know it’s probably that amazon order, or the two Freddo’s my dad promised to send (as it is, he actually sent me a whole selection box!) a little part of me hopes that it’ll be a surprise from a friend. I’m excited to find out, and the mystery and suspense is amazing.
It doesn’t matter really though if I’m walking to the parcel centre, or unlocking the flat post box in the common room, I’m always hoping to see something with my name on it, and I’m always hoping to see something that I’m not expecting. I love it when my friends write to me, because they’re the people who really know what I want or need to hear, and who make me smile most of all. It’s silly, I’ve not had any post from friends since about week two, so I don’t know why I still hope for it. But I do. Every single day, I still check the post box, hoping they’ll be something there. Hoping they’ll be a surprise, or something that makes me smile. I want to get that buzzy feeling when you sprint up the stairs back to the comfort of your room and open the envelope. It’s beautiful.
It’s sad when they don’t write, especially when I make such an effort to write to them. Of course, what’s important is that I’ve taken my time to make them happy, and that they benefit. I don’t write for a response, I write because I want them to be excited to see a letter with my handwriting on it. But it is still nice when you get something back, and it has an ability to turn your mood around that’s not quite like anything else. You know when you get a letter that someone has taken time out of their day to think about you, and that’s a very very special feeling.
My phone isn’t much different now, either. If I know that I’ve sent someone a message, and they’ve seen it, I’m eager for a reply. Being so far away and with such busy lives means that we don’t get to speak that much to those who we love. So at night, when I’m lying in bed, and my phone vibrates, I jump up to see what it is. I know that it’ll just be the flat whatsapp message, but there’s always a little hope.
Letters in the post are the best though. They take me back to my childhood, and their memory stays forever. I keep them all, and I stick up all my cards, so I can look back and remind myself that there’s people out there who love me.