I loved you two phones ago. You aren’t welcome in this one. It took two SIM cards to truly erase you, but I did and I started to forget. The texts were deleted and the ringtone forgotten. I stopped getting my hopes up with every phone buzz and I exercised incredible self control to not inundate you with pings. Eventually, I upgraded and I deleted you. I moved on to smarter smartphones and you became a ghost haunting the shell of a lifeless Samsung Blackjack. But four years and two devices later, you found your way back in.
Technology can protect your identity, but it can’t protect your heart. Not even Steve Jobs can run interference with the seven digits that damaged your goods, although there’s probably an app for that. I suppose I should have known it could happen at any moment, but I assumed that once I moved on, our paths would never cross again for the rest of eternity. And if they ever did, I would look f**king fabulous. (Jokes! I would be hungover and smell like stale french fries.) We didn’t have a run-in at a coffee shop or bookstore or anywhere else pathetically predictable. But one notification was enough to send a pile of unused emotions hurling from the past straight into the present. They weren’t gone, they weren’t forgotten. Just sitting, unused, in a box in the back corner of the attic where nobody ever goes, because it’s only used for storage.
“Hi”
No punctuation, no content, no indication of what he wanted. No reason to say anything at all. Only salutations. Birthdays had passed, graduations had passed, even my mother had passed, all with a constant string of silence on the other end of the line. But thanks to the past, I knew him well enough to understand those two stupid characters spoke volumes. His succinct “Hi” said it all– “I’m sorry for the way things ended and you’re right to think I’m an asshole. And you have really pretty hair.” Okay, maybe not the last part. He would never actually say any of that, but the sentiment was lingering there. Moreover, it was physically there, on my phone. The phone that, now two phones later, was finally introduced to the memories of my past. 2008, meet 2012. You two have a lot to catch up on.
Suddenly, it’s four years ago. It’s hard not to reply within milliseconds. And it’s especially hard to be cool when you want so badly to be. You remember every text and glance and goodnight like they were last night. That loaded “Hi” says so much more than hello and you know it, you know exactly what it says and you have so much to say back. Love, hate, anger, suspense and hormones push your adrenaline into overdrive. Where did these goosebumps come from? All of this and so much more from two stupid letters, that he didn’t even punctuate. The sheepish bastard couldn’t even double his keystrokes and decide between a period and an exclamation point, even though he knew it read to me like a question mark. Your heart and your brain don’t always communicate, they don’t always live in the present and they’re certainly not being reasonable right now; proceed with caution.
It didn’t go much beyond polite smalltalk. I replied because I’m respectful, but I didn’t give in because I’m not a pushover. Not everyone can possess the right amounts of sass, self-confidence and success to pull that off, but dammit, I try. In the end, we’re both probably better off without each other. He still doesn’t belong in my phone, but I can make room for resolution.
You can read more from Elizabeth Entenman on her blog.
Feature image via.
So true and really well written.
And sure this trascend countries and it is just a girl thing.
Yes! That’s all I have to say.
It is annoying that as “smart” as our smartphones get, they don’t know who we DON’T want a message from.
If only we could easily block numbers. If only.
I about fell of my chair here, because this sooo gets to me when this happens: “No punctuation, no content, no indication of what he wanted.”
Very eloquent. It speaks to my heart my mind and my cellphone. I feel like you put into writing the turmoil many people feel with lost relationships. You pulled it from us and put it into words. Thank you.
Amazing! Spot on! You took the words out of my mouth!
we’ve all been there… i think it freaks us out because we’d secretly been waiting for them to contact us.. but when it actually happens reality hits and we need to decide whether we want to go down that road again… on one hand it could be fun for a while, but on the other things ended for a reason, and we should figure out if that reason still stands.. or you could just say f**k it, life is short and reply! =)
the writing is perfect
This was a really awesome post. I went through a similar experience via facebook and ended up blocking him. I’ve moved on and so should he.
It doesn’t ever change. Even 8 years later, that text or friend request on facebook will still freak me out. I can’t make myself delete the FR. But I don’t answer the texts or calls anymore.
Classic overthinking. This is why we drive ourselves and guys crazy.
Also.. beautifully written ! x
Sometimes those texts say more. And sometime you blow up on them cause it’s no longer acceptable for them to send such things.
This is absolutely spot on!!!!
Ah this is amazing.