“How have you been?” Hey! What’s up! I’ve been actively trying to get over you for weeks/months/years and I think I’ve done it, I really think I have. I’m asking you how you are so that you’ll ask me how I am and I can say, “GREAT!” with a smile on my face as I maniacally type the word, almost with so much fervor that I actually believe it. Because I am great. I am so, so great that I am texting my ex to inquire as to how they are. Because I can handle it. Because I am doing really, really well. I’m great. Really.
“Hey, do you have anything I left at your place?” Hey! I want to talk to you about something, but I really can’t think of anything to say besides vaguely accusing you of not returning my shit. I might actually miss a shirt or two, but that’s not the issue. I just didn’t want to start the conversation in such a way that you might ignore it. I really do just want to talk to you, but being honest might not be enough to hook you. Are you really going to ignore this text about my stuff? That would make you shitty. Are you shitty? No? Check. Mate.
“I heard about your new job.” Hey! I ran into your disloyal ass friend who told me everything about what you’re doing. It really doesn’t matter if I brought up your new job, cat, step parent, or car accident. What matters here is that I know about the new things in your life. I know it all. So who is he/she? New job, new relationship huh? It’s like that, huh? I want to hear all about the new things in your life because I want you to miss the old things. I don’t care about your new job. I will tell you “that’s so great!” and that “I’m so happy for you” and I will hope that you get fired for sexual harassment. In fact, maybe I can get you fired for sexual harassment. Let me look into that.
“I miss you.” Hey, I’m drunk! Or high. Or perhaps under the influence of a really powerful Drake song that came on shuffle earlier. Where are you? We had a good thing. I don’t feel well. How’s your Mom? I love your Mom. My parents loved you. Fuck. Why aren’t you answering? I fucked up, okay? Call me when you see this. Okay, fuck it. I’m going to call you til you pick up. I’m gonna leave a voicemail. Shit, I’m gonna cry.
“Can we be friends?” Hey! I want to come back into your life somehow, and, in fact, I kind of have to. Maybe I want to date one of your friends. Perhaps I already am dating one of your friends. Or maybe I need to re-enter our circle of mutual friends because I have no one else. Or I need to take Expository Writing with you this fall because it’s the only open class. No matter how you answer this question, I am probably going to pop my pompous little fake head back up in your life again somehow, but I just wanted to seem like the bigger person. In fact, if you tell me that we can be friends, I might just get really uncomfortable and ignore your texts until I physically have to see you. That’s the best part about texting anyway, right?