I’ve always been a writer. My favorite method of communication, since I was little, has always been written. I used to save every card and letter I received, no matter how seemingly mundane or significant, both equally important. Birthday cards, Christmas cards, Valentines, and maybe most importantly letters. Hundreds of them that go back to my elementary school days. Letters from best friends and acquaintances. Letters from school crushes, and international pen pals. Short letters, long letters, and even letters that could pass for short stories. Some are simple. “What are you doing this weekend?” Some are more complex, but they all say something about me, their caretaker. I cannot bring myself to throw them away. Why? They are just pieces of paper. Words. So many words. I wrote as many as I received. So, I keep them because they remind me of who I am. I am Vanessa. I am almost 45 years old. I am a woman, a wife, a mother, a friend, a writer.
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