Example 1: To his girlfriend, long distance, romantic, about one page
385 words
My dearest Meimei,
There are a few weeks left before you visit, and I'm already counting them. So I'm writing to you instead of just waiting.
I keep thinking about that hostel kitchen in Lisbon. Eight people, one pot, and a lot of hungry strangers. Within ten minutes you had turned the whole room into a pasta assembly line. I remember thinking, who is this person? I'm still finding out, and I hope I never stop.
I think I knew on our last night there. We climbed up to that viewpoint over the city, and you told me you wanted to open a bakery someday. I looked at you and realized I wanted to be around when you did. That feeling has only gotten stronger.
You are fearless about the things you care about. You left a safe accounting job at 28 to go to pastry school, and you never looked back. I was there, on a video call at 2 a.m. my time, when you held your certificate up to the camera and cried. I cried too. I was so proud of you.
And you are the gentlest person I know with anyone who is having a hard time. When my mom was in the hospital, you stayed on the phone with me every night until I fell asleep. You had to be at the bakery by 5 a.m. You stayed anyway. I will never forget that.
I treasure so many small things. Our Sunday calls, where we cook the same recipe in two kitchens and compare results. The tiny croissant you draw at the end of every text. The postcards you send from everywhere you go, even a suburb twenty minutes from your apartment.
I think about you on Loveland Pass, when it started to snow. You laughed like a little kid and tried to catch the flakes on your tongue. I would drive up that mountain a hundred times to see that again.
I'm applying for jobs in Toronto now. I want to stop counting the days between visits. And when your bakery opens, I want to be your very first customer, standing at the door before the sign is even turned around.
Until I see you, I'll be right here, on the other end of the phone.
Counting the days,
Owen
What the writer told Toastful to get this letter
- Writer
- Owen, to my girlfriend
- How Met
- We met in a hostel kitchen in Lisbon three years ago, both trying to cook pasta with one pot between eight people. Within ten minutes Mei had organized the whole kitchen into a pasta assembly line. I knew on our last night there, when we walked up to a viewpoint over the city and she told me she wanted to open a bakery someday, and I realized I wanted to be around when she did.
- What You Love
- She's fearless about the things she cares about. She left a safe accounting job at 28 to go to pastry school, and never looked back. She's also the gentlest person I know with anyone who's having a hard time.
- Little Things
- Our Sunday video calls where we cook the same recipe in two kitchens and compare results. The way she signs every text with a tiny drawing of a croissant. She mails me a postcard from every place she goes, even a suburb twenty minutes from her apartment.
- Memories
- The first time she visited me in Denver, we drove up to Loveland Pass and it started snowing, and she laughed like a little kid and tried to catch flakes on her tongue. And watching her pass her final pastry exam on a video call at 2 a.m. my time, when she held the certificate up to the camera and cried.
- Support
- When my mom was in the hospital last year, Mei stayed on the phone with me every night until I fell asleep, even though she had to be at the bakery by 5 a.m.
- Looking ahead
- Closing the distance. I'm applying for jobs in Toronto, and I can't wait to stop counting the days between visits. I want to be her very first customer when she opens her own bakery.
- Extras
- She lives in Toronto and I live in Denver. I call her Meimei. Sign off: 'Counting the days, Owen.'