Why don’t we write love letters anymore?
Rekindling a Lost Art
“My angel, my all, my very self... ever thine. Ever mine. Ever ours.”
Ludwig van Beethoven — Letter, July 6–7, 1812
When I was about 14, I spent a great deal of time writing letters. As a teenager in a catholic boys’ school, my social life revolved around trying to get to know girls through writing letters. They were mostly pen pals (yes, it was that long ago). They were also just letters, although at the time, they might as well have been love letters, each and every single one of them.
I remember my initial letters vividly. They were usually brief and awkward, conveying little beyond a few questions and personal details. It was handwritten, of course, on mildly scented letter pads, meticulously folded, and sent on a matching envelope. My handwriting lacked confidence, and my words were unsure. But it was the one thing that I looked forward to doing after school every day. It was always exhilarating to receive a letter. But there was also something about sitting down with pen and paper, thinking carefully about what to say, and writing it in a letter.
Over time, I wrote better letters. In fact, it was my letters that won my wife’s heart eventually.
Today, we live in a world of instant messages and emojis. Words travel fast but vanish just as fast. We have to keep deleting our messages, or they pile up until we are overwhelmed. We rarely keep them, and even when we do, they are lost among the thousands and thousands of messages buried in the storage of our cloud drive.
Letters, and especially love letters, by contrast, endure. They carry the weight of time and emotions, the intimacy of touch, and the permanence of ink on paper. You just don’t throw away your love letters.
Why Love Letters Still Matter
Love letters are not just “messages”; they are a physical manifestation of your presence. To hold a letter is to have a fragment of time, with the writer, in your hands; a piece of the writer’s life pressed onto paper and delivered to you across the expanse of space.
Unlike an email, a letter is tangible. You can touch it, smell it. Imagine the writer crafting it. It can be tucked into a drawer, folded in a wallet, or wedged between the pages of your diary. It can be revisited years later when the writer may no longer be near.
In this age that values speed, love letters remind us of the romance of taking your time. They require thoughtfulness, patience, and care. You cannot dash one off in seconds. You have to pause. To reflect. You have to find the courage to speak your heart, to say too much. A love letter is a declaration.
The Romance of Taking Your Time
A love letter is not efficient, which is the whole point.
It is deliberate. The scratch of a pen against paper, the hesitation before the next word, the crossing out and starting over again, these are all part of the gift to the receiver. The time it takes to write is itself an act of love: It says you are worth every single minute of this.
And the anticipation of waiting: checking the mailbox, holding the envelope, recognising the handwriting before even opening it. The familiar scent of perfume. Waiting was part of the joy, part of the ache of love itself. We have lost so much of this magic in the age of instant everything.
A Gentle Guide to Writing a Love Letter Today
You don’t need fancy words or poetry. You only need sincerity. A love letter is ultimately an expression, an outpouring, a proclamation; one that you have enough courage to put in writing. It is not for the faint-hearted, and certainly not a frivolous exercise. It requires seriousness of heart.
And a love letter need not be confined to romance. You can write one to your parents, to thank them for the unseen sacrifices that shaped you. You can write to your children or grandchildren, leaving them words they might treasure long after you are gone. You can write to a friend, offering platonic love and gratitude. You can even write to someone you admire; the teacher who inspired you, or, as a secret admirer. In every case, the heart of the letter is the same: to pause long enough to give your affection its full weight in words.
Begin. A love letter does not need a dramatic opening. Start as you might a conversation: “Dear...” Sometimes the simplest greetings carry the most tenderness, because they are the words we actually speak.
Speak your heart. Tell them about how their laughter brightens a room, the steadiness of their presence when you feel uncertain, and the way they notice small things that no one else does. Specificity makes love tangible.
Remember together. Shared memories are anchors of affection. Recall those moments that still make you smile, the walk in the rain, the meal you shared, the quiet evening when nothing happened but everything mattered. To name these memories is to acknowledge how they and those moments are forever etched in your soul.
Speak of change. A love letter says not only what you feel, but how you have been changed. Perhaps you are kinder, more courageous, more patient because of them. Perhaps they reminded you of joy when you had forgotten it. To speak of change is to acknowledge how they have impacted your very being.
End with love. Closing the letter is as important as how you begin it. Resist the temptation to be efficient or casual. Don’t trail off with “take care.” End with words that leave no doubt: “With all my love,” or “I am forever yours.” Or my favourite valediction in Francis Ford Coppola’s Dracula: “I am your servant, D.”
A proper love letter finishes with confidence, not hesitation.
Whether handwritten on fine paper, scribbled in a notebook, or typed in an email, the essence of a love letter is the same. It carries an unhurried presence, offered with seriousness and care.
Love Letters as Keepsakes
Love letters become keepsakes. Many parents and grandparents still keep boxes filled with them, faded with time but never losing their meaning. They are individual time capsules, capturing the affection that flowed from long ago.
In a hundred years, nobody will read our text threads. But a letter, carefully folded and placed in a drawer, might still be opened by someone who longs to know what love once looked like in words.
The Courage to Say It Fully
Writing a love letter is an old-fashioned tradition, but it is also a timeless act of courage. To write one is to be vulnerable, to confess that someone matters a whole lot, that you would put down, in words, the essence of who you are. Once written, a letter is forever, even if the paper that carries the words is lost.
In a world of fleeting messages, love letters remind us that some things are worth lingering over.
When was the last time you received a love letter? When was the last time you wrote one? Have you ever written one? Perhaps this is a good exercise for the weekend. If you have, leave a comment below.