By Nate Odenkirk | STAFF WRITER
It’s been 10 days. TEN. DAYS.
I’m calling it here.
My pen pal has passed, tragically, abruptly.
Dealing with the death of a loved one is very difficult. It’s even harder when you no longer have a pen pal to write to about your pain because… guess who died, this self-same “pal.”
Luckily, Javier was not a loved one, small consolation. But for him to have “kicked it” without first sending a courtesy letter… It’s rough, I tell ya. The least he could have done is write once with a “hey, I’m not feeling so well” or “I may be dead within the week,” just something to keep me in the loop. Also, how did he die? That’s something pen pals never get to find out.
The saddest part of this whole thing is that there’s so many intimate things I’ll never know about him. I’ll never know how his day is going, what he does for fun, or what books he’s reading… he’s just gone now. I think the thing I’ll miss most about Javier was his excellent handwriting, and the way he would script out his laughter— “ha ha ha!” he would always write. Music to the eyes—I would instantly recognize Javier’s laugh on any surface.
They’ll probably ask me to speak at his funeral. I think it would be much more appropriate if I just wrote something. Not a letter; that’d be a bit on the nose. But something like a letter. A lot like a letter.
Well, the mourning process is overrated, anyway. I think I’m going to transition to writing complaints to car rental companies and Quiznos managers now. But I’ll never be able to write a complaint to Javier, because he was that good of a guy.
And, because he’s dead now.
“A letter a day will keep me away!”