For A.'s book, I reached out to so many loved ones, friends I'd yet to meet in the states and overseas, people he'd never even seen in person but had bonded with thanks to the Internet. I sent out Facebook messages, emails, and mailed out with small gift card-sized envelopes that I wanted them to fill in any way they wished. I was thrilled by how excited people were to join in (one of his favorite authors even emailed a little quote for me to include) and felt like it was Christmastime every time I opened the mailbox and saw that another self addressed stamped envelope had made its way back home.
People sent along notes, photos, money, creative treats, and random affections, even larger gifts that I had to sneak into A.'s apartment. It was fun to watch him open up an envelope and then go around the room opening drawers and cabinets to find things that were hiding there all along.
"Chill out, I'm not proposing to you!" I laughed.
"Oh good," he exhaled with relief. "I can relax now."
First, I presented him with a letter opener because, I said, I'd asked for help with this present and that he'd now need help to open it up. Then I made him close his eyes and placed the thick black book in front of him. By the time I was done gluing in everyone's messages, which were still coming in at the last moment, the book wouldn't even close. Over one hundred red, white, and black envelopes made their way in. It was such a wonderful feeling to see A.'s reaction to the gesture, I almost teared up along with him. He was so overwhelmed, so overcome, that he didn't know what to say. So he just took the letter opener and started tearing into the envelopes one by one smiling, laughing, and in disbelief that people would go through the effort to show how much they care. That and the fact that his girlfriend is so damn sneaky and completely in love with him.
