What to do?

I don’t know about you but once upon a time I used to get quite excited about getting mail. In days before email and mobile phones good old fashioned letter writing was the thing and I loved it. In fact I still have bundles of old letters tucked away; letters from my grandmother, my mother and a couple of ex-boyfriends who sent love letters; letters from old school friends – well they’re a piece of my history aren’t they? Don’t you have any of those? Oh you were never one for letter writing – what a pity. We were trained to write letters from a very early age – thank you notes for Christmas and birthday presents usually and then I had a pen friend in America for a while in the days when you wrote on an airmail form so you were a bit restricted as to how much you could write at any one time.

That pretty much fizzled out with the advent of email and texting and so on which I always thought was a shame so post became bill orientated – not something to be eagerly anticipated far less enjoyed. Most of that is done online these days so my mail box consists largely of junk – very depressing. Even sending Christmas and Birthday cards seems to be largely consigned to Facebook and email which is also depressing.

The dogs are going mad which heralds the arrival of the mail; they drive me nuts much as I love them. My efforts to shut them up are futile as usual and I retrieve my post thinking perhaps I as the middle man – or, to be more accurate, middle woman, could just be eliminated and the sender could simply consign their creation into the recycle bin or go online and save the rainforests.  I once worked for a chap who used to ask at the end of meetings when handouts were distributed if they couldn’t just be presented as ready-shredded. I get his point exactly.

I flip through the envelopes impatiently – nothing of interest – just the usual junk. And then I look at the last envelope and recognise a very distinctive hand. That’s another thing about today’s world, even if someone does write to you it’s rarely in their own hand – so impersonal. I need to sit down – you just won’t believe what has come through my door after so long.

Are you in touch with many old friends? I expect it’s more through Facebook isn’t it and other social media – most of which goes over my head I’m afraid. I can just about manage Facebook but Instagram, Twitter and all the rest just leaves me a bit cold I’m afraid. This is a letter from a guy I was engaged to when I was very young. He was totally unsuitable but the more people told me that the more I felt I was in love with him. Well that’s the way of things isn’t it – or at least it used to be. I must admit I had tried searching for him a couple of times out of idle curiosity when I started to get the hang of searching the internet but with no luck. Have you ever done that? It used to be Friends Reunited didn’t it but that kind of got lost in Facebook I think.

Have you ever tried it? Tried looking up old friends? Did you have any luck? Oh well, good for you. I just can’t believe that over forty years have elapsed with no contact and no means of connection. And now this – what do you think it is about?

O.K. I know, there is only one way to find out. But I need a drink – yes I realise it’s only 11.00am but this calls for a sherry. Don’t you ever have a fancy for an early tipple?

“Boys! Settle down!” I say. They retreat to their cages which is good. I don’t know whether to expect good news or bad. Can’t actually imagine what it could be with either scenario. Any ideas?

Sherry is very soothing I find and I take a drink from my glass. I open the letter. I suppose it is too much to ask you to read it to me isn’t it? Well of course it is how silly of me.

I think of the old love letters tucked away in the cupboard under the stairs that I haven’t read for years but have never had the heart to throw away. Yes, it was me that ended this relationship simply because I eventually realised that he was no good for me and I had to move on with my life but that didn’t stretch to chucking out his letters. And I even kept copies of many of mine to him – also secure and tucked away.

It is quite a thick envelope I notice, and he had to pay excess postage. He, who was quite economical with words as I recall. Quite nice quality paper and his handwriting is a strong as ever even though he is well into his seventies now.

My life has been chequered to put it mildly. I can’t claim to have had the best taste in men having always been the giver not the taker and it’s been tough there’s no denying. Yes I was with my husband for many years and I gave him everything but it wasn’t easy and I have since paid the price that’s for sure. And there is worse to come but without digging my head in the sand I try not to dwell on that. However, I am alone and facing what can best be described as an uncertain future. Maybe I could do with an old friend?

I turn my attention back to the letter. It’s a long, slow read. Seems my ditching him was the kick up the backside he needed and he ended up doing alright for himself but he says he always missed me – always wondered about me. Well he could have tried Friends Reunited or Facebook but I suppose the fact that he has written a letter by hand and posted it in the old fashioned way points to the fact that he is not that way inclined. He didn’t even used to drive for goodness’ sake – wouldn’t be surprised if he had never learned.

I wonder why he has chosen now of all times to get in touch. What do you think? I mean I was married for years and have been on my own now for about six years. Do you think he had some way of knowing this or is it just coincidence? You are sitting firmly on the fence in all of this I have to say and it is not helping. And how the hell did he find my address? Is he still in contact with mutual friends? Has he some other means of tracking me down? It’s a bit unsettling you know. And if he is still in touch with mutual friends why don’t I know about it? Or is he IT savvy and hoping to lull me into a false sense of security by contacting me in this way? There are ways and means after all. Maybe he has a contact in the police who has tracked me down as a favour? What the hell has been going on?

I know you think that you won’t be able to say the right thing for saying the wrong thing but I could do with a bit of a steer here. He wants to meet up again. After all this time. Why do you think that is? Is he just lonely having lost his wife a while back – or that is what he is saying here if he is to be believed? Is it some kind of ploy? Does he think I’m well off? Well he can surely think again on that count. Or is it something to do with true love of youth? I do wish you would say something. This letter is more about the intervening years than anything else so pretty short on clues.

The long and the short of is he wants us to meet up again. I am torn. I have had my fingers burnt too many times before and I include him in that. Equally I am in a tough situation and at least I know him – or at least knew him. It’s not like meeting a total stranger – look how disastrous my venture into a blind date turned out to be. I just don’t know.

Tell me what you think I should do.