The Pen is Mightier

February 14, 2017

2/14/17

Dear Howard,

I will definitely buy a large bundle of those "forever stamps." Of course, if you were observant, you would realize that I already have been posting my letters with such stamps. You are not Sherlock Holmes.

I have made a point in the past few years to become somewhat of a specialist in the area of making end markings. In fact, if there were a major in which I could exclusively study end markings, I would almost surely be taking the necessary classes to help me get on my way to becoming a PhD in end markings. Not to be confused with simply "end marks," which refers exclusively to periods, question marks, and exclamation marks to end sentences. There is a difference.

Yes, I am cliché with my "the pen is mightier," remark, but I stand by my statement. Sometimes clichés are good. I suppose you would have to be the type of heroic, let-me-die-so-you-can-live type of person. After all, that's why Claire has taken so fondly to you over the past few days. (If you've received an anonymous Valentine's Day letter from a California address within the past few days, I swear, I didn't give her your address. She probably found it herself. Hopefully the fact that Claire is obsessed with you (yes, I'm saying obsessed, and yes, I'm using a parenthesis within a parenthesis. Deal with it.) doesn't do anything to damage any relationships. Oh and you can't let her know that you know that she's obsessed with you.) I'm curious to know now what sort of pain you're talking about that you wouldn't mind leaving it behind, if it isn't the lack of mashed potatoes in your life. You seemed to hint at some pretty specific events that give you pain, some things that you wouldn't mind escaping, and which moving away can't heal. If you feel comfortable sharing, I'd be willing to listen. Or read, I suppose, as the case might be. But yes, I suppose one of the only really good reasons to let oneself die is so that someone else might live on.

I'm glad that you're glad that I found your spiel on end parentheses interesting. Your attempt to make me insane brought you a sort of joy in the end. Congratulations. I'm happy that you found my point of view on the matter engaging, but if it's just as engaging as one of my narrations, perhaps I should rethink my writing career...I suppose that your evaluation of the "Open Parenthesis Hypothesis" (that's what I'm officially naming my point of view) is correct in that it remains open until the end of history. It does open up the possibility that the parenthesis may never close in the end as well.

However, I do think that this is more true to life than your view of the end parenthesis. In my view, the Open Parenthesis Hypothesis, when someone passes away and other people attempt to end the parenthesis, the reason they can't close it is because it is still being written, not because it has already been closed, as you stated. Instead of it being like them trying to close a parenthesis with two marks instead of one, it would be like them cutting off the parenthesis in the middle of a sentence (or even more appro)priately, in the middle of a word. (I hope that demonstration right there serves as a prime example of what I'm talking about.) Perhaps there is no real answer to this problem, however. You and I are both still very much alive, and we are only talking about an analogy, and so neither of us really have too much authority on the subject.

If I find a professor of parenthetical analysis (or whatever they might be called if they exist), I will inform him or her of our debate, and it will be settled once and for all. Your mom would definitely be proud of you if you were to become one of these parenthesis pros. What parent wouldn't be? I mean, think of the conversation it could create! ("Oh, what a nice parenthesis you put on this card! You know, my son is a professional parenthesis analyzer, and he says that from this parenthesis, he can tell that your entire top set of teeth are false, and that you had a nose job three years ago. Isn't my son remarkable?")

Claire accepts your condolences. I accept your congratulations. You didn't tell me to give James anything though, and he is sad. So I'll give him a hug when I see him tonight. Yes. On a date. Seeing a rom-com per your suggestion. What could possibly go wrong on this date? (Just wait for my next reply. I'm sure you'll find out that we somehow accidentally set the theater on fire by knocking over someone's popcorn.)

I think that its definitely something we both enjoy a bit too much. (Yes "its." Not "it's." Squirm at the grammar mistakes.) I actually didn't realize that you had written a completely gibberish sentence grammar-wise until you pointed it out. My brain must just be so amazing at translating your stupidity that it didn't even bother to inform me of yet another error in your writing.

Our first date certainly was memorable, I'll give you that. I almost felt sad that you felt sad that James and I didn't get to enjoy our pastries, but then you said you laughed when you read that I fell down, and I no longer felt sad. I hope that the other "coffee-goers" (yes, indeed, "goers" and "sorries" are both strange words.) tipped the coffee place rather generously, because they did get a show with their morning caffeine, and I'll admit, it would have been very funny to see from a bystander's perspective.

I forgot that your parents had abandoned you during Christmas to go on a cruise. That's why you came to California for Christmas, correct? I hope that there are no complications with you simply telling your parents what's happening this summer instead of asking, like a good child should do. (Tsk tsk, now who's being rude?) I agree about the friendship triangle. Maybe you could draw me a picture of what that would look like, just so I get a clearer picture in my mind. After all, I don't know how I can survive without another masterpiece of yours adorning my dorm room.

Sorry to hear that you won't be coming to California for school next year, but at least we can still mail each other, eh? (Where did that "eh" come from? I had no idea I was becoming Canadian. Oh well. Go with the flow I guess. Eh.) You aren't too lame. So I'll leave the shooting you to someone else with more of a vendetta. Just don't make any enemies who would want to shoot you, eh?

No outdoor pools? How do you people survive up there? Here in Sunnyland, it's almost blasphemy not to have an outdoor pool. I am such a fabulous lifeguard that I once saved a ladybug from a horrible watery grave, and even gave it CPR! Honestly, I think that drowning might be one of the scariest ways to die. I mean, you either hold your breath until you pass out, or you take a breath, and fill your lungs, essentially, with death. I hope I never drown. And that's why I couldn't let that ladybug drown. It would have been too sad.

Well your answers have certainly made my view of you more interesting. No deep dark secrets, no long lost girlfriends, one CIA secret involving hula-hooping dolphins (and an interesting "tee-hee" noise, type of giggle), and a Disney princess secret that you will take to your almost grave. You, friend, are a mysterious fellow.

Oh, and you must tell me about whatever hot date you surely have for today. It would not be acceptable for me to spill all the details about my date with James and not get anything in return. I look forward to the juicy details.

Your New Friendship Triangle Pal,

Beth Cassidy

P.S. I suppose that immortalizing memories in each other's hands isn't too bad an idea, especially since I'll only seem crazy to people who don't know me. Letters are a good form of communication. I officially approve. If I had a deal of approval, I would put it here.

P.P.S. I bought James a box of assorted chocolates, just like you wanted.

P.P.P.S. I hate all "P.S."s, but especially when there's more than one.