Letters are the only form that presumes a specific person. Not an audience. Not a reader in general, but you.

That is why they work when everything else does not. A letter has a recipient. It has distance. And it has the decision to cross it.

That decision makes words heavier.

Some letters are never sent. And yet they still arrive.

We think about people more often than we tell them. A letter is a way to narrow that gap. It does not have to be sent. It is enough to write it.

You found this place. Which means it was written for you.

There is nothing unnecessary here. Only words and the distance between us. Sometimes that is enough.

Write. To anyone. Even to yourself.