I wish friends and lovers still wrote letters to each other, poetry to each other, or recorded their thoughts in the form of small, tangible gifts. There is nothing lovelier than receiving the innermost thoughts of another person in their handwriting, their words smeared with the side of their palm or looped in cursive ink so that they all run together. I would keep them all.
If your heart tells you something but your mind tells you something else, which do you believe? Both are just as apt to lie. In fact, they play at deceit all the time. Mostly they balance each other, giving us that crucial reality check. But what happens on the rare occasions when they conspire together?