Today, I made a curious discovery. As I was pawing frantically through my father’s cabinet in an effort to find some gas money, I happened upon a mysterious stack of neatly-bound letters. Curiously, I untied the string holding the envelopes together and flipped through a couple of the letters. To my initial disgust, I discovered that these letters were indeed love notes my dad had once sent to my mom. After cringing and gagging a little bit, I began to think about the concept of letter-writing.

As a sixteen-year-old girl living in the year 2012, I never receive letters. Packages from Amazon and eBay, yes, but letters? Hardly ever. Party invitations are always done over Facebook, and if a long-distance friend wants to contact me, he or she can just shoot me a text—or an email or instant message. Now that I think about it, I can’t even remember the last letter I received in the mail. Yes, the instant communication and technological advances of today’s world have certainly made life more efficient when it comes to contacting people, but a little voice inside my head reminds me of the downsides of modern communication.

You see, my father’s love letters made me realize something, although it was a little freaky reading them. I realized that in my old age, I will never have tangible love letters that I can rifle through and re-read over and over again. I will never have the luxury of reading my lover’s handwriting or admiring the flourish of his signature. At most, I will have a few romantic texts here and there, but these texts won’t last once I switch phones or my inbox becomes full.

Unfortunately, with the advancement of technology comes the death of old tradition. The age of young maidens writing with ink and parchment to handsome princes from faraway kingdoms is—sadly enough—over. No more dragons, damsels, ogres, or knights riding faithful steeds. These days, chicks with smart phones send winky faces and provocative pictures to dudes they hardly know and guess what they call it? Romance.