3 AM Drunk Texts (or more appropriately, ‘Dear John’),
Hello. I say hello, because I want the formality of this message to trick you. You see, if I act formal to you, you will begin to question yourself. You’ll dig your brain and pick out pieces and wonder if you made up our previous exchanges. Well, spoiler alert, those exchanges were not made up. They were the ramblings of a confused young woman in her junior year of college who thought that the only way to be in a solid relationship was to let Margarita do all the talking.
Margarita talked a lot too. She told you that she wanted to kiss you, and that she thought you looked good in black v-necks. Margarita said that karaoke bars with her single lady friends were great, but she would much rather be at your house. Gross, Margarita. Have some class!
3 AM Drunk Texts, you ruined my life. You see, in the moment, you made it seem like you were making really great decisions. You meant that I could go on with my night, feeling confident or sexy from the message I just sent, and deal with any repercussions in the morning. 3 AM Drunk Text, have some class! That is no way to live your life! You can keep rocking those black high heels, but COME ON…put the phone away.
You are teaching women that it’s not okay to feel how they want to feel. Drunk Text, you convinced me that it was unheard of for me to text a guy I was interested in to tell him he had nice eyes and a great beard unless I was stumbling into a cab. Let me tell you something, Drunk Text, I am a lot of things…and good with men just isn’t one of them! You gave me the courage to think that after three margaritas and a round of happy birthday shots that I was a goddess when it came to talking to men. I could delete Ok Cupid and Tinder off of my iphone because I could pull any number of any guy in my phone, and that would be the beginning of our love story. Well, you were wrong. The only thing you ever did for me was make me feel like a spineless hack the next morning. I don’t think that was intentional- you had good intentions in the beginning. You just wanted to help show me my confidence. Drunk Text, you’re falling into the pattern of every other break up I’ve ever gone through with. I must stay strong and resist.
You see, Drunk Text, what is wrong with you is that you made me think that I wasn’t ever enough for someone unless I was sitting at a table in the middle of an Applebee’s moments after screaming along the lyrics to “You’re So Vain”. An empty cup in front of me, and the heat of the bodies (now remember, this IS Applebee’s, so it’s not like the heat was THAT horrible…dramatic effect.) inspired me to craft a fifteen word text message and take the plunge and hit send. In nine hours when I would wake up needing cold water and a McFlurry, I would either pretend the text message didn’t happen or send a wittily crafted apology to the receiver, and that is no way to live your life! I want to take ownership of my typos and somewhat vulgar sexual confessions. I want to own that! Also, 3 AM Drunk Text, I’m a grown ass woman and should probably stop acting like I’m a freshman in college trying Bud Light for the first time.
It’s been a fun few years, 3 AM Drunk Text, and I will always have fond memories of what you gave me. More than memories, though, I will have an enriched sense of womanhood. I won’t need a margarita to tell my cute new fling that I in fact do want to take a weekend trip away with him. I don’t need warm beer to convince me to text my friend who made me mad and tell her that just because she is in grad school to be a doctor and I am a struggling theatre artist does NOT mean that she gets to pick where we are meeting for lunch tomorrow.
3 AM Drunk Text, I need my house key back.
9 PM Sober Texts About Not Wanting To Get Up Early For That Meeting Tomorrow