First of all, I’m really tired now after working on my Machine Translation assignment, so I can’t write too much. However, I promised someone I would write this post tonight.
Last Monday was the first time I ever received a postcard. I’ve been in love with postcards since I saw them in the tourist shops along the streets of Sliema. Just like most of the things in Malta, they looked old. That time, I decided to regularly send some postcards to my family, as a trace of the places I’ve been.
I have sent six postcards to my friends and family since then. It’s a nice feeling, you know, to write a message about whatever place on the other side of the paper, walk to the post office, and wait wait wait until they reach the hands of your loved ones. To me postcards are special, in a way that it reminds me that some things cannot be done in a hurry.
My boyfriend sent me this postcard of Bangka Belitung weeks ago. He bought it at Times Bookstore and went to the post office on his day off. I checked my mailbox everyday, but it actually takes longer to send a postcard from Indonesia to Malta than the other direction. And last Monday, just when I started thinking that it might be drowned somewhere in the Pacific ocean, it’s finally there, in my mailbox.
It didn’t suddenly brighten my day or make me feel like I could overcome whatever problems I had. Not like that at all, but it brought a smile to my sick-of-Machine-Translation face. That’s enough, if you ask me.
Last Monday was exactly two years since we’ve been together. You asked me to put the photo of the postcard in my blog. Here it is, as you requested. I would have done so even if you didn’t ask me. Thank you for giving me something that is hand-written and has a body and does not need batteries. Thank you for stepping into a bookstore and helping me with UNIX shell script.
Nobody gets too much heaven no more
It's much harder to come by
I'm waiting in line
Nobody gets too much love anymore
It's as high as a mountain
And harder to climb(Bee Gees – Too Much Heaven)
