Getting Busted w/ Love Letters

by OpenFireGlass 42 Replies latest jw friends

  • Purza
    Purza

    I got busted for writing letters to my best friend. She would write back and we would keep the letters. One day her step dad went through her stuff (he was a dictator type father) and found the letters i had written where I spilled my guts out about smoking, hiding boys in my room and called my mom a bitch, etc. So he called my parents and they looked through my stuff and found my friends letters. This all happened in one morning while I was at school. I was probaby 14 or 15 at the time (not yet baptized). Anyway, I got put on restriction for like 3 months. One week later I had all my privileges back except I couldn't talk to my friend. My mother told me she was going to keep the letters to show me when I was grown up how I acted when I was younger. She never did show them to me and probably never will as we no longer speak.

    Purza

  • curlygirl
    curlygirl

    OMG! This thread has brought back so many memories!

    My parents actually burned one of my yearbooks because someone told me to "have fun and get laid this summer". Did they think that I actually would just because someone said that?! I was thirteen......good god. I did do some makin' out that summer though. That actually led to me being grounded for three months.

    I can't stop giggling! Remember all of those crazy hormones and that adrenaline from sneaking around? Awwwww the good ole days.

    curly

  • Oroborus21
    Oroborus21

    Greetings!

    One sister complained to my mom about the "hot letters" that were exchanged between me and her daughter. As a teen I probably had 3 or 4 sisters that I was writing to.

    The days of real love letters are probably gone and replaced by empty email and expressiveless chatting. Most people today are miserable communicators and the greatest medium ever invented for communication is ironically leading to the demise of the art and beauty of correspondence.

    -Eduardo

    BTW I say the above as though people of our generations were such great writers, but have you ever read letters from persons who lived in the 19th century or even before.? Like the Ken Burns Civil War series showed from some time back, even common farmers were capable of prose that makes them look like Hemingway compared to our own writing which might be likened no better than Stephen King or Rebecca Brandewyne. So that the next generation seems even worse might only be to continue the trend.

  • sass_my_frass
    sass_my_frass

    See, this is one reason I don't want to be a parent; that working out where to draw the line between overly-permissive dropout whose kids end up on the street using drugs, and control-freak whose kids don't leave home until you're in nursing care and have just given the family lawyer medical consent. Who needs that kind of trouble? I'm just getting a puppy.

  • greendawn
    greendawn

    Those teenage loves whatever they mean they never last they are just lust though perhaps a necessary part of growing up.

  • Beck_Melbourne
    Beck_Melbourne

    Love letters, wow....I'd almost forgotten all about them.....so long ago. What was his name again? I think it was Neal something.....I wonder what become of him....mind you, that was back in the day when we used to actually 'write' love letters instead of type them....ahhh....memories.

    ~Beck~

  • diamondblue1974
    diamondblue1974
    Those teenage loves whatever they mean they never last they are just lust though perhaps a necessary part of growing up

    Exactly...but the WTBTS cannot have young people within its organisation which are well adjusted socially; they must be outcasts with low self esteem who only feel able to socialise within the ranks of the congregation. That way they are susceptible to the teachings and they are easier to indoctrinate.

    DB74

  • Billygoat
    Billygoat

    Wow does this thread bring back memories. Some good some bad. I had a JW boyfriend from the 4th grade until the 10th, when I moved. We wrote notes all the time and would slip them into each other's bibles. Haha! Once in field service (in his pioneer mom's conversion van - haha!) we held hands under our coats when nobody was looking. I remember being thrilled and terrified at the same time!

    But then I remember the day that my step-mom cleaned out my room and found all my notes. I was so grounded and the crap was beat out of me when my dad came home that night. I still remember her standing there with her arms folded when my dad pulled off his belt. It was a very mean, "I told you you'd get in trouble" look. *sigh*

    Why on earth do I miss her sometimes? I've let her off the hook for so many years, but she was just an accomplice to my father's abuse. Ugs. Not sure I want to think about this right now.

  • diamondblue1974
    diamondblue1974
    But then I remember the day that my step-mom cleaned out my room and found all my notes. I was so grounded and the crap was beat out of me when my dad came home that night. I still remember her standing there with her arms folded when my dad pulled off his belt. It was a very mean, "I told you you'd get in trouble" look. *sigh*

    Why on earth do I miss her sometimes? I've let her off the hook for so many years, but she was just an accomplice to my father's abuse. Ugs. Not sure I want to think about this right now.

    God thats awful, I am sorry you went through that.

    I cant comment as to why you might miss her but my half brothers experience of his step mother is very similar; although she wasnt in the physical sense she was very emotionally abusive to him, but every birthday he still brings her flowers and has just recently given her a fantastic gift (well for a 21 year old lad anyway) for her 60th Birthday!

    The fact that you can still feel this way after all that she has done or supported is a credit to you, as long you dont allow her to exert that same control in your life nowadays!

    DB74

  • Brigid
    Brigid

    Eduardo,

    Like this one?

    July the 14th, 1861

    Washington DC

    My very dear Sarah:

    The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days - perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to write lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.

    Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure - and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine 0 God, be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battlefield for my country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing - perfectly willing - to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt.

    But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows - when, after having eaten for long years the bitter fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children - is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country?

    I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying the last, perhaps, before that of death -- and I, suspicious that Death is creeping behind me with his fatal dart, am communing with God, my country, and thee.

    I have sought most closely and diligently, and often in my breast, for a wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I loved and I could not find one. A pure love of my country and of the principles have often advocated before the people and "the name of honor that I love more than I fear death" have called upon me, and I have obeyed.

    Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield.

    The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me - perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar -- that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.

    Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have oftentimes been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more.

    But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night -- amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours - always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.

    Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.

    As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father's love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and my blue eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters. Tell my two mothers his and hers I call God's blessing upon them. O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children.

    Sullivan

    I simply fell in love with this when I heard it on the series, bought the series on tape, memorized it, wrote it down and put it in my journal.

    ~Sigh~

    Brigid

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