An evening
You both write about the same evening — apart, without seeing each other’s words. It opens once you’ve both written. The best part is how differently you remember it.
“Open when” letters for the one you love
Write them ahead — for the night the one you love feels sad, lonely or can’t sleep. Each letter opens exactly when it’s needed most. And the day it was opened stays with you both, for good.
In short: you write letters ahead of time, and the person you love opens them one by one — when they can’t sleep, on their birthday, or with a word only you know. It’s a website: nothing to download, nothing to pay.
Writing and reading are free. No passwords — you sign in with a code sent to your email.
You write pages for different moments; they open them one at a time. Each page opens once, and the day it opened stays with you both.
You both describe the same evening without seeing each other’s words. It opens once you’ve both written — and you remembered different things.
A letter to anyone by link: a friend, your mum, yourself a year from now. It opens on the day you set, not a day earlier.
Pages for different moments: when it’s hard, when you can’t sleep, after a fight, for a birthday. As many as you like, whenever you like.
Each page opens once — press and hold — and then stays open to reread as often as you like. The day it was first opened is kept for good, and you both see it.
The reply stays under your letter. Over time the book becomes a conversation that spans years.
Open when
you feel lonely at night
Try it — this is how a page is opened. Press and hold the seal.
press and hold
Today
The book for Anya
Open when
you feel lonely at night
written September 1 · opened September 10
If you’re reading this, the night got lonely. I knew one would, so I wrote this ahead of time.
i closed my eyes — and really felt you here
You write the mood to open it in. The rest is up to the person you’re writing to.
It won’t open before that date. For a birthday, an anniversary, a goodbye.
A month, half a year, a year — counted from the day you send it.
It won’t open without the word. You’ll say it yourself, whenever you choose.
You both write about the same evening — apart, without seeing each other’s words. It opens once you’ve both written. The best part is how differently you remember it.
A thought, a photo, a song — drop it in on the go and pick it up when you sit down to write.
How many days you’ve been together and how many are left until you meet — right on the home screen.
You can ask for a page that isn’t in the book yet: “open when I don’t know why we’re doing this.”
A letter to anyone — a friend, your mum, yourself a year from now. Send the link; it only opens on the day you pick.
No feed, no profiles, no ads. Like any website, the service has technical access to the database — but nobody reads your letters or feeds them to AI.
Export everything you’ve written as one file, any time.
What you write belongs to both of you. Either of you can hide the book on your own at any time; erasing it for good takes both of you.
You sign in with a code sent to your email. Nothing to forget, nothing to steal.
Kept Letters was made by one person — for his girlfriend. There were thousands of kilometres between us, and I wanted her to have something of mine, written ahead, for the hard evenings.
It’s not a company or a funded startup. That’s why there are no ads, nobody sells your letters, and nothing is used to train AI. You can write to me at hello@keptletters.com.
— the maker of Kept Letters
Letters for moments that haven’t happened yet: “open when you’re sad”, “open when you can’t sleep”, “open on your birthday”. People used to handwrite them and seal them in envelopes. Kept Letters is the same book of letters — always on your partner’s phone, and each one opens exactly when it’s needed.
It’s a website — nothing to download, it works in any browser on iPhone and Android. To keep it on your home screen like an app: on iPhone tap Share → “Add to Home Screen”; on Android open the ⋮ menu → “Add to Home screen”.
They get a short email: “there’s a new page in your book”, “you’re asked to open a page”, “someone replied to your page”. The letters themselves never go into email — they stay in the book. These emails can be turned off in settings.
No. “Once” is about the first opening: the seal breaks once, and the day it happened stays with you both. After that the page stays open for good — reread it as often as you like.
“Whenever they need it” pages are trusted to the reader: they can open them any time, one by one. Pages set to a date, a delay or a word can’t be opened early — no matter how tempting.
Yes. Each of you has your own book: you write yours, they write theirs for you. And there’s “An evening”, where you both write about the same night.
That’s what it was made for. When you’re in different cities or time zones, a letter can be there when you can’t. Opening dates follow the reader’s local calendar, so a birthday letter never opens a day early because of the time difference.
A book is for two people, whoever you are: a couple, best friends, siblings. And a letter to anyone — even yourself a year from now — is a time capsule: you send a link, and it opens on the day you choose.
Inside the book, only the two of you: no feed, no profiles, no ads. Honestly: there’s no end-to-end encryption yet, so like any website the service has technical access to the database. Nobody reads your letters, sells them or feeds them to AI — that’s written into the privacy policy.
Opened pages stay with both of you — like paper letters that have already been given. Unopened ones can be deleted by their author at any time. Either of you can hide the book on your own so it’s out of sight; erasing it for good takes both of you. If you don’t feel safe, write to hello@keptletters.com and we’ll sort it out.
You send them an invite link. They sign in with their own email, and the book is waiting. You can start writing before you invite them — the pages will wait until you’re ready.
Yes — that’s exactly what it is. For an anniversary, a birthday, before a trip, or for no reason at all. Start writing ahead and send the invite on the day.
No catch: it was made by one person and doesn’t cost much to run. If the service ever has to close, you’ll be told well in advance — and you can already export everything you’ve written as one file, any time.
Writing, reading, replying and exporting everything are free, and will stay free. Paid extras may come later — a printed book, for example — but everything works fully without them.
And it’ll be opened on the evening it’s needed most.