The Summer of '93

Forming an aquaintance

My Mum handed me a crisp white envelope, with blue open handwriting, and a German stamp. I was excited. I opened it up carefully but hastily, greedily reading his writing, he wrote:
"I am sorry I had to leave so soon after you arrived. I hope you had a good time in Athens...."
His grammar was excellent and I particularly liked the uniform curves of his writing. I could tell by his pen strokes that he wrote and thought swiftly. I had studied handwriting analysis books because I concluded from life experience, that my choice of men up until now, well I had such a poor judgement of character. 

Dionisis was eloquent and charming captured in script, just like he was in person and he had even drawn some cartoons in black rotring ink. I reread the letter, mulled over the contents, trying to disseminate a smell from the crisp leaf, enjoyed the glow that the receipt of his letter gave me; he had wasted no time in writing to me. In my head I was spinning like a top. I grinned to myself and lay on my bed, entranced by the receipt of such promise. I could see from his garland writing that he had an open and responsive personality. It told me that he was rarely  aggressive with often experienced great sentimentality. From this extremely straight baseline in his writing, there was a lack of spontaneity and he was therefore rigidly controlled as a person, especially fastidious and sensitive and possibly withdrawn or shy. The slant of his writing told me that he was a determined planner who was ambitious career wise. Dionisis had very wide spacing between words which signalled his desire for isolation. I could pick up he was introverted like me. It was always a helpful guide.

"Dear Dionisis,

I was delighted to receive your letter, it was great to hear from you. I am surprised that Alexandros remembered to pass my details on but I'm so glad he did!" 

I smiled to myself. Then the overthinking started. Does this mean he likes me to or maybe he likes the idea of having someone to write to?

"I was sorry that you had to leave so soon, it would have been nice to get to know you better. How long have you been in Heidelberg, how fluent are you in German? What is it like being so far away from home and what are you studying in Heidelberg? So many questions, I am sorry, but I did want to ask when you were in Club but it was too noisy and time for us was so brief.

I envy you living abroad and speaking languages so fluently. I would love to travel more. My Mum wouldn't give me permission for me to learn German at school because she was born in 1934 and her childhood memories haunted her, so much so that my education was thwarted for German. I would like to tour around some day.

When I was at school the German class did a school trip but of course I couldn't go and I felt like I had missed out on that sadly. Why did you choose Heidelberg to study?

Anyway enough nosiness from me! I hope you are well and not studying too hard. "

I paused, and asked myself: how do I sign this letter? I deliberated and crossed out. I settled on

I hope to hear again soon.

Best wishes,

Megan x

I penned a response, made revisions and then chose some coloured writing paper and sealed it with a subtle but gentle spray of perfume. I loved writing letters and this particular one brought such joy. I hoped for more. I stuck a European priced stamp on it, along with an air mail sticker. It was always in my imagination, as to the journey of my letter. As I cradled it to the postbox, thrusting it into the mouth of the shiny vessel, I waved it goodbye. The post box wasn't too far to walk to. I posted it pretty much by return. But he wouldn't know as the post took days.

I imagined the postman turning the key into the postbox and releasing the deluge of letters. I never got tired of thinking about the letters being sorted into boring UK and exotic abroad piles. I visualised the large bags of post, brimming full like Santa's slay, engulfing the plane hold with messages of love, stories of what was to come, memories of the past and general connections between people that were so treasured, compared with other mediums. I imagined it finding its way with its companions to Germany, sauntering its way to Historic Heidelberg and falling through the letter box. I wanted to be that letter. I wanted to be handled and gazed on by Dionisis and have all his attention for a moment. Lucky letter. I wondered if he'd treat it gently and reread it and perhaps imagine me wearing the fragrance that soaked into the colourful pages and if he would think of me. I wanted him to spring forth branches of memories of our brief evening together, close on the dancefloor with me, relaxing sipping at a glass whilst the lights danced on our table, and think fondly of me.