To All the Love I've Loved Before

 To All the Love I’ve Loved Before

By Steph

My initial blog post idea was to write about Scarlet Letter. Indeed, earlier this week I had already intended on this topic, ready to throw out an in depth analysis on a few quotes. However, when I sat at my desk, fingers hovering over the keyboards, all the while staring at an empty white screen, I couldn’t bear to put any words down.  

Partially, it was my nervousness in writing a good blog post. I try to enjoy when I write these, making sure that I’ll enjoy them as I read them back. However, my last post felt unnatural, and I still feel dissatisfied about it. I’ve also tried to get back into reading books and writing on a regular basis, albeit not very successfully. I don’t want writing and reading to become hobbies to force myself to write. Books used to be my comfort, my world, my joy, and now they have dwindled to mere nostalgic memories.

So I put away my computer, deciding to clear away my writer’s block with a book I hold dear. It isn’t my favorite book, nor the most interesting out of my collection, but it brings me an unconscious grin to my face every time I read it. To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han is a silly, sweet, rom-com novel that brings a fresh new perspective on love. The book follows high school junior Lara Jean after purposely unsent love letters get sent—and the consequences of that mistake. Han weaves the actual letters throughout the story, dropping them in between the narration like little gifts for the reader. 

    So, for one reason or another, I wanted to try my own hand at a letter, inspired by this book and the swirling thoughts in my mind. Perhaps it’s not exactly Lara Jean style, but it’s mine.

Dear readers,

Have you ever been in love?

 The type of romantic, unrequited love where you can only admire from a distance, daydreaming of interlocked hands and featherlight kisses? Knowing it may be a crush, nothing more, but holding your hands to your heart and giggling underneath your pillows? Bringing the nerve to utter a word to them, your heart fluttering fast in your chest?

The high school crush sort of love, where you fight back a blush at every interaction, giggling with your friends about it later? Stealing glimpses out of your eyes, feeling giddy from an accidental brush of shoulders? Fidgeting your fingers and biting back a grin when friends tease and joke? 

The platonic love from years of friendship, through days captured by memories and lenses? Confiding and trusting with secrets kept locked so long the key to open them was starting to rust? Letting your worries and cares float away as you embrace in the comfort of others who understand you? (Going on an ice skating trip and ending up with wet knees, bright eyes, and breathless howls of laughter?)

The empty, hollow love, of a solemn realization they’re gone from the world entirely? Sobbing from the bone-shattering shock from the news, begging on your knees to stop the lies? Caressing an item you know was dotingly adorned with fingerprints of a late soul?

The lonely, yearning love of a familiar person-turned-stranger, severed from the inner circles of your past? Reminiscing fondly of old history as you scroll up messages, or find an old co-written school project?  Texting once in a blue moon when they reemerge in your thoughts, waiting for a reply that will only come after you’ve forgotten once more?

The love between a parent and a child, full of sacrifices and a familiar bond, uncertain at times but always there for you?  Eating a delicious warm meal at school, each bite reminding you of the meaningful thought behind the food? Planting a kiss on their cheek before you leave for school, any arguments and grudges already dissipated and forgotten?

The stranger love, of ordering warm almond croissants and sipping tongue-burning coffee, lost in the sepia-tinted ambience? Struck by a moment of sonder watching a bustling street, people coming and going at their own pace, uninterrupted by others? Closing your eyes before a restful sleep, thinking about every old, every new, even non-existing interactions with the world?

Are you in love?

I think I’m in love. 

Love, Stepheny