"Can you send those texts again? This whole wifi thing can be a bit of a hit or a miss!" These were my best friend's last words to me before we went months without speaking to each other. No texting, calling, not a single word shared between us. Silence. It was a loud silence, though, one that was constantly gnawing at my brain, keeping me up at night. I missed my best friend. I still do. She's studying abroad in Argentina and for the first time in years we exist without each other. I have to learn how to exist without her.
It's not like Maggie and I have never spent time apart. We go to colleges in different states and are used to maintaining a long distance relationship. Texting, Facebook chat, and even phone calls have been our main source of communication for four years now, aside from occasional weekend visits and school breaks. This time, though, it's different. Her wifi went from spotty to non-existent. I stopped hearing from her. My texts will not deliver and neither will my Facebook messages. A phone call would cost too much for our limited college budgets and Facetime isn't an option without wifi.
Social media sites such as Facebook and Twitter connect humans across the globe every second. Hashtags unite strangers worldwide, they ignite universal movements. Posts are shared, re-tweeted, and favorited until they become viral, spreading like wildfire, touching the lives of people we will never meet. People in Zimbabwe and Croatia and Iowa can, and will, laugh at the same cat falling into a bathtub again and again. If there was ever a time for long distance relationships to thrive it's 2016. That said, online communication is not always a viable option. In the case of me and Maggie, it's impossible.
After enduring months of silence, and months of missing her, I had a choice to make: I could simply wait it out, keep the silence going until she eventually returned home. Or, I could find another way. Social media is not the be-all and end-all of human connection, even if it sometimes seems that way. So starting today, I am choosing to make communication happen.
It's amazing (and a little pathetic) that the thought of sending a letter just occurred to me about a week ago. Spending years at summer camp, much of my childhood was spent writing and receiving letters. I guess somewhere along the way social media took over and I forgot all about letter writing, which is really sad to me. It's really fun to write a letter because I can personalize it however I want. I can draw silly doodles for Maggie, tape a piece of candy to the top of the page, write in cursive or in print or in bubble letters. Letters also feel far more personal than emails or Facebook messages. Hand-writing a message requires thoughtfulness and precision. Letters do not need wifi to be delivered, they aren't expensive to mail (you just have to pay a few cents for a stamp), and they are far more exciting to receive than a message in a chat box. They are a reliable and sentimental form of communication that the reader can save for the rest of her life, long after texts are accidentally deleted or buried under a mass of mindless communication.
In addition to writing a letter, sending a care package is a great and fun way to communicate with friends abroad. It's a little bit more expensive, especially depending on how heavy the package is, but still cheaper than a ten minute phone call. I can get creative putting together a package for Maggie, finding her favorite things that she might not have access to abroad, and filling it with stuff I know will make her laugh, feel loved, or be excited about. Plus, everyone loves getting an unexpected package in the mail. It's like opening a treasure chest.
Tonight I'm going to write Maggie a letter and hope it reaches her. If all else fails I'll send a carrier pigeon.
