Free Humiliation: Text Your Ex

Everyone is in a relationship this year, enjoying stay at home netflix dates, ordering takeout together, going on road trips. Everyone is braving the cold knowing they get to go home and enjoy a warm bed with their person after a nice hot bath together……..except you. Everyone has their person, except you.

You’re not a stranger to love. You secretly pine for it. A romantic at heart, your palpitations rise anytime you get a Tinder notification. It never goes anywhere besides a few well thought out messages on your part and a couple of one word responses from some half-ass matches. Dry as hell. Your friends ask you, what the hell are you doing on Tinder? But you’ve tried all the “better” apps and nobody ever matches with you.

You thought you knew love once. You saw her for a few months, the most beautiful girl in the world, to you at least, and that’s all that mattered. The dinner dates, vacations, the way she would ignore you when you told your lame jokes…. sublime. Although she never let you call her your girlfriend, she was your girl. Until one day the texts started coming in slower. She stopped picking up the phone. She stopped wanting to go out to dinner, even though you always paid and it was nothing less than a Michelin star. You just weren’t worth her time anymore, and she never gave a second thought about it.

Your thoughts, though? Never emptied of her. You thought about going to all the spots you went to with her, even though she was the type of girl to tire of things quickly and by that time they’d be too outdated, you’d never catch her there. You checked her Instagram every day—every morning, every night, every lunch break—for the smallest update. Nothing. You were so desperate for her you reread your text messages between each other, a sea of cloudy white text bubbles and the odd blue one here and there. Those texts became the scripture to your newfound religion: Her.

So easy would it be to press the screen a few times and initiate a conversation. Or would it? You pondered for hours, days. Reeking of jealousy anytime you saw someone smiling into their phones. They text their people without thinking twice, and here you are questioning whether a simple “hi” would be the end of your existence. She has you out here making lists of pros and cons while you can’t be sure she even gives a single fuck about you, but that doesn’t stop you.

Every night is excruciatingly long. You’ve typed something up a thousand times in your notes—it would be you whose fat fingers slip and send a complete fuck up of a text you’ve been drafting every night for weeks. You’ve perfected it though, and after careful consideration, you go with the classic: hey, what’s up? Not too forward, not too formal, just normal, friendly. You hold your breath for what seems like an hour before finally hitting send and throwing your phone across the room, only to jump after it JUST in case your text triggered her to call you. Minutes pass.

Nothing.

But then? Something.

Those three dots pop up, she’s texting back! Maybe she was always waiting for you to do this? Maybe she still wants you? Maybe you’ll get married and have babies? Your heart looms at the possibility of such reunion, redemption, restitution… you fail to realize you forgot to see what her response was. Joyous, you grab your phone to unlock it. Sweet, sweet love, what have you to say to thee?

There’s nothing there.

Not a single word. Not even a read receipt.

You could have sworn you saw her texting back. You couldn’t have just imagined those three, promising, life-changing dots?

And yet… you knew texting her was an invitation for rejection. A way to say I still don’t want you without having to say it. An indication that you deserve less than a response, not the time nor the energy, and your worth? So much less. Her power in the things she never has to say: unmatched. It’s why she’s the love of your life. You to her, though? Your nothing but a speck in her universe. An unanswered text doomed for mass deletion among Black Friday sale texts and bill reminders. Of course she deleted your text thread, unlike you who screenshot every conversation. She won’t brag to her friends that her ex texted her, because you never meant enough to her to receive that title. No one will ask about you, and in the off-chance they do, she might not even remember to say she saw you text her that one time. You’re just not important enough to her. Never were.

She’s the love of your life, and you’re just the guy she left on read that one time.