Insecurity at the Mailbox

I have a penpal in England. Actually, I have TWO penpals in England. Somewhere during the holidays I got a bee in my bonnet that I wanted a friend to write real - on paper - letters to. A gal around my age who had not already heard all my silly stories and might find me the slightest bit interesting and/or amusing. I found a website and put my info there. Within 24 hours I had two new friends with promises of letters on the way. One married woman with children, one single mom (mum!), both very close in age to me.

The fact that they were both in England was a complete fluke, but one that THRILLED me. I am obsessed with England. Everything I know about it is from PBS Masterpiece movies and various novels, so it must be highly accurate information, right? When I think of England, I think of tea. I love tea. If I had a friend that would come have "a spot of tea" with me every afternoon I'd feel like I'd gone to heaven. I don't fly....I HATE to fly....but if I had plane tickets to London.... Well, I'd still hesitate, but I'm pretty sure I'd give in and go.

Two weeks later, I had letters from BOTH of them on the same day - a Monday. I read them over and over and over. They were both absolutely delightful! By Friday, I had written each of them return letters and mailed them. That was weeks ago. I go through the mail every single day hoping for that little "PAR AVION" sticker. So far, no sticker. I have to tell you, I am extremely bummed about this. I know it hasn't really been that long, but every new day without a letter feels like a rejection. Was I too boring in my first letter? Did I talk too much? It is a complete mystery to me.

I thought I would just love, love, LOVE this snail mail thing, but I'm not sure my self-esteem can handle the waiting. What if they don't ever write back?

I may have to go buy Beth Moore's "So Long Insecurity" just to get through this.