Wedding anniversary
An hour before the ceremony, you both write a letter; neither reads the other. On your first anniversary you open them together.
Suggested date: 1st anniversary · then the 5th and 10th
daktilo does one thing: it takes the letter you write today and prints it on paper in a way that nobody — not even us — can open before the day you choose. These are the moments people keep coming back to when they pick that day.
An hour before the ceremony, you both write a letter; neither reads the other. On your first anniversary you open them together.
Suggested date: 1st anniversary · then the 5th and 10th
Write what you think at this age, who you love. Tuck in a concert ticket or a holiday booking — no one can see it before the day.
Suggested date: next birthday · or ten years out
Write the disbelief of the night you first held them, the one that lasted until morning. The person who will read it cannot speak yet.
Suggested date: 18th birthday · or the first day of school
On the last day of class everyone writes a letter, all locked to the same date. At the ten-year reunion, nine envelopes land on the table.
Suggested date: 10-year reunion
Write what you decided this year and what you promised to give up. A year from now, the person opening that paper is the only one who gets to judge you.
Suggested date: exactly one year later
Most promises made on New Year's Eve are forgotten by February. This time put the promise on paper and lock it to next New Year.
Suggested date: next 31 December
Write the thing you could not say at the send-off. Let it open on discharge day; reading it then is easier than saying it now.
Suggested date: discharge date
Leave the sentence a student is not ready to hear today for the day they will be. Hand them the envelope at graduation.
Suggested date: graduation day
If you are moving to another city or another country, pick the date you will return and leave the letter behind. What goes unsaid at the airport stays there.
Suggested date: the day you return
The letter is encrypted on your device. Neither the letter nor a copy of it sits on our servers — because it is never sent.
It cannot be opened before the date you chose. That is not a promise; part of the key is mathematically unsolvable until that date.
No account, no sign-up, no tracking. We do not know who received your letter, because you deliver it: you print it, fold it, hand it over.
If the paper is lost, the letter is gone. There is no recovery — and that is exactly where an envelope gets its weight.