4 years ago I was 16. I made a post on this subreddit looking for a pen pal. I got a message from somebody named Peter, not from my country. Peter was 20 years old, terminally ill, and had anywhere from 3 months to a year left. He told me that it was okay if I did not want to talk to him because of how heavy it was. Aside from this jarring detail about Peter, he shared a lot of the same interests as me, and we (as it would soon become apparent) were the perfect penpals for each other.
We would talk about our days and our lives in a very factual matter. We’d send pictures of things in our everyday life, like the stray cat that lived on Peter’s street, or the first snowfall of winter in my part of the world. Peter talked about how he didn’t want to tell his friends and family about his illness for fear of being treated differently, so I was the only one he told. As Peter often did, he gave me another out if I wanted it. I did not take it. He talked in depth about his thoughts on life, in relation to his condition.
Peter and I exchanged emails for close to a year. These were long emails, that took each of us hours to write. He shared advice about how valuable life was, and talked about how even though he was sad, he was stable and ready to pass away if it happened. I would tell him stories about failures and successes that must’ve seemed trivial to him, but he was always glad to hear about them and share similar ones from his life.
One day, we made a deal. Peter mentioned that there was a lot of sadness in his past that he didn’t want to burden me with because I was young. I told him that if he emailed them to a different email of mine, that I wouldn’t read them until I graduated college (5 years later). He agreed, and proceeded to send me two very large emails to my other account.
Toward the end of our correspondence, I started to get busy with college applications/auditions and Peter had to sleep more. Peter and I would take longer to write our emails. One afternoon, after I had taken an especially long time to respond, I read an email from Peter and replied to it. Little did I know, this would be the last email that I read from Peter.
Every year since, I have emailed Peter a few times a year, on the off chance that he just didn’t see the other ones, or that he had to be hospitalized but was fine again. Today, I tried one last time to send Peter an email, and I got the Delivery Status (Failure) notification. I was met with panicked emotions that haven’t been truly stirred up in years.
I am now the same age as Peter was when we first started sending each other emails. I have never forgotten Peter’s stories and his words of wisdom about life. I often wish I could send him pictures of my travels, or ask him if he’s met any other interesting people at the bar recently. I want to exchange more movie suggestions with him. I want to tell him that I’m sorry for taking so long to respond that last time. I want to tell him that I still haven’t opened the emails that I promised not to for another 2 years.
On our own, maybe we are curious. Maybe we are optimistic. Maybe we are lonely. Maybe we want a friend. Maybe we just like cool stationery. Together, we are a network of people from all over the world, attempting to connect with each other for whatever reason. Regardless of that reason, everybody you’ve ever talked to and lost touch with is just another person, with an equally complex life, and it didn’t stop once your correspondence did. These communications are real, they are not virtual. Responding to an email or a letter may seem like a very small part of your life, but you may never forget it.
Thank you for reading. There’s no real point to this post; I just wanted to share a story that wouldn’t have unfolded without the existence of this community, and is therefore at least somewhat relevant to you.
Note: If anybody knows anything about the publishing of obituaries in Slovakia, I would be very interested, as I don’t speak Slovak and I haven’t been able to find anything about Peter by googling it. His name is relatively common, but I know his age and illness, so that might be enough to narrow it down. Thank you
Edit: Since so many of you are commenting of being touched by this story, here’s a picture that Peter sent me one time, talking about appreciating the small things http://imgur.com/V3fkuCQ