I wish you would text me. I want to have a conversation with you, but there is no way the first message is coming from my phone.
I’m not trying to play hard to get. I’m not trying to act like the one who cares less. I would text you first if I had the courage but that is not the case.
Sending the first text is too nerve-racking for me. It would take me an hour to come up with a conversation starter and then another hour to phrase my words correctly. I would type and retype my sentences, trying to find the perfect balance between casual and flirtatious.
After pressing send, I would toss my phone across the room or flip it facedown on the table in the hopes of forgetting about what just happened. Of course, I would still check my notifications every few minutes to make sure I haven’t missed your message because I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting too long for a response.
I never send the first text because rejection is my worst fear. If you ignored me after I found the courage to reach out to you, I would feel like a complete idiot. I would wonder what the hell was wrong with me. I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about what I could have said differently.
I never send the first text because you would reach out to me if you liked me, if you missed me, if you wanted to hear from me. When I’m the one reaching out to you, there’s a chance you are only answering to be polite. I don’t want to bother you. I don’t want to risk looking like a lovesick fool who cannot read your signals. I don’t want to chase after someone who is unobtainable.
I never send the first text because making the first move is hard for me. I’m never the person who approaches strangers at bars or asks for phone numbers, and even though a text seems like a small thing, it feels important. It feels like an admission of my feelings. It feels like a confession about how much I care.
I never send the first text because every time I try my heart thumps hard in my chest. My stomach swirls with sickness. My hands shake with nerves. I’m not a people person. There are times when I struggle during conversations with friends and family members who have known me for years, and the thought of talking to someone I’m interested in dating is a million times more stressful.
I hate how my tendency to overthink has stopped me from going after what I want. My fears have been keeping me in place. I should just get it over with and send the first text, but I’m worried about getting labeled as desperate. I’m worried about getting ghosted. I’m worried about getting my heart shattered.
I wish you would text me because there is nothing I want more than another conversation with you — but I just don’t have the guts to initiate one.