This is a letter to Franklin, my step-father’s cousin’s uncle’s brother. Franklin, I want you to know, on behalf of me and everyone else who knows someone (but only just barely), I am disappointed in our lack of communication.
I saw you at cousin Merkle’s wedding that one time. You were dancing to the Electric Slide, wearing Birkenstocks, and I just knew that one day I would need to write a letter to you when my university’s newspaper was low on content.
As one of many girls in the world who (sort of) knows someone, I need more Franklin in my life. I need you to read through these 500 or so words and be inspired to change your ways, but only until you scroll onto the next thing on your Facebook feed.
I wish you would call me. You, and all the other Franklins in the world, take a moment to think about your extended, super removed family members, especially the female ones.
Females need extra attention for their common relationship problems. That’s why we write these open letters in the first place.
So, think of that female family member in your life. Message her on Facebook, send her a message on Snapchat or, even better, write her an open letter in response to her open letter and submit it to a local newspaper or The Odyssey.
I hear women love that.
At this point, I know what you’re thinking.
“Should I message/snap/write a letter to my extended male family members as well?”
The simple answer here is, no. Not because there’s a double standard between genders, but actually because they are less likely to want their electric-sliding-Birkenstock-wearing step-father’s cousin’s uncle’s brother to message them.
To be clear, I’m not implying that men are less responsive to random, estranged family members. I’m just trying to make my word count.
So, to sum up my feelings toward you, Franklin, I want you to know that I’m thinking of you, that you matter. I want you to know that I, and many others like me in similar situations, want more contact between our distant relatives. I also want you to know that I got an incriminating video of you urinating behind Merkle’s wedding cake. Gotcha.
