A picture may speak a thousand words, but you are the bond to emotional connection. Many people today do not remember your fragile frame. They keep you in boxes, torn apart, or in the trash so you are never seen again. We write you on occasion for gifts or relatives who reluctantly beg for one. The problem though: we never write you to voice our inner truth.
If we do not receive attention, we lose interest in others and ourselves. That’s why we have been manipulated into a parasitic relationship with phones. Our lifelines are attached to us at the hip. Those who refuse to let go are in anguish the second they are cut from it. I walk the halls of school noticing the hollow shells we have become without your presence.
We are instructed to learn from our past. Your joy was once welcome with anticipation. Little kids giggling with glee to hold you in their arms. Wars entrusting you with their secrets. Lovers tormenting over you to continue the fantasy of romance. Memories never fading in your pressed pages. Yet, you are withered and tattered now. You are whispered about from time to time, like a long-lost friend.
Hand written letters, you will never be forgotten. The end of sophomore year marks this message. I gave a series of you to my best friend as I left her to move on to my next adventure and dedicated you to the friendship that has not bent in over four years; as long as she had you, I was never far. You let me write, “What to Hear During a Break-Up,” “What to Hear on Your Sixteenth Birthday,” and “What to Do When You Miss Me.” Looking back and now, these are characteristics engraved in you. I write down what I need to hear during heartbreak. You are never far; I check in with you, through a diary, while the world keeps trekking on. I am writing to you now as I miss your cherished appearance.
On the other hand, I do not follow the same fast paced path it travels. I, like yourself, prefer interconnection between relations and our thoughts. Social media stands no competition to you. I sit impatiently for a text that gives me no real reward. Although calls and face times are nice, you are a timeless classic. You are not a haunted memory, but a renewed friendship. You are the true form of human expression, hand written letters.
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