A letter to my Handwriting
Sorry for neglecting you
Dear Handwriting,
Sorry for being so hard on you. You cannot meet my expectations, not that you are aware of them, in any way, shape or form. I feel guilty towards you. I can see the years of neglect wearing on you.
I know you are beautiful in your own way, but it’s difficult to put the time and effort into maintaining you. And I like you the way you are, on a sort of hiatus. Your beauty lies in the unpredictable outcome. Will you slant to the right, to the left, will some letters gracefully connect together, or others jolt awkwardly into the next? The faster I write, the more elusive you become, a code to decipher, a mystery to be solved. I go back and I read and reread, and use all my concentration to try and remember what I was writing about. Long gone are the days of dot your i’s and cross your t’s. I leave handwriting up to interpretation. Oh, the anticipation!
Take heart, you’re still the preferred medium for my deepest thoughts and feelings. You can be scribbled in any way, any size, any order, in no order, on any point of any page. That’s something. You let me hold weight in what I write. That won’t ever change.
I’m just not always prepared to use you, or have a pen and paper at my side. Or a notebook that has an empty page at my immediate disposal. I used to be prepared. At all times, I was taught to be prepared with my pens, pencil, rulers, erasers, whiteouts, you name it. There wasn’t a day I didn’t have my writing tools by my side. Back when I needed you. Now, I turn to my computer and type because there it is, easy and unrestricted. And you, you are my backup plan.
You know your value, I don’t have to tell you. Others can see I have neglected you, I know. But let’s not forget, it was never about how it looks but rather how it’s used. You remain undefeated.
Sincerely,
Priscilla
