To All the Boys Who Never Texted Me Back,
Are you in a coma? Are you stuck in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness? Are you secretly Batman and have cut all ties with me because I was on the verge of finding out your secret identity? Are you a wanted criminal? Or is it something else?
You know, it’s been two weeks and I’m starting to suspect what it is. I know you’re still alive, because I’ve seen your posts on Instagram. But you still haven’t responded to my text, so the only logical conclusion is that you are a jerk. A jerk who just doesn’t want to expand any energy communicating with me.
Thanks a lot.
The first few hours, it didn't bother me. He has a game, I told myself. Sports practice. Or he's just lazy (as all teenage boys inevitably are). But after 3-5 business days? After a month? After forever?
To everyone who just decided not to respond to my texts, I have something to say to you. Keep ignoring me. Please. Let’s not make this a one time thing. Let’s make this a forever thing. In fact, let’s take it a step further. Let’s go back in time, and pretend we never met. Pretend I never sat next to you, pretend you never talked to me, pretend you don’t know my absolute favorite movie in the world is Spy Kids 2: The Island of Lost Dreams (talk about lost dreams, huh?). Pretend you never read this and pretend you don’t know it’s referring to you. Unfollow me on Instagram, I’ll unfollow you, and I can get my heart rate back to normal. Your heart can go back to being completely and totally nonexistent.
Seriously. I don’t care. It was never a big deal, anyway. It’s not like I sat on my bed “reading” Gone With the Wind and checking my phone every ten minutes, even though the ringer was on and I would hear it if anyone texted me. It’s not like I jumped when I saw the little notification in the corner of my screen, even though it was just my best friend texting me. It’s not like I spent my evenings staring at the mirror and pulling my hair out. It’s not like I unplugged and plugged in my WiFi router countless times, thinking there was something wrong with my connection. It’s not like I emailed Apple to say there was something wrong with my phone, and they just emailed me back and said no, there’s nothing wrong with your phone, but there could be something wrong with your head, and if you’d call this toll-free hotline-
No. Clearly, I don’t care at all. And if you texted me back right now, I would clearly ignore you. Because you don’t deserve a response. I wouldn’t pounce on my phone like a teacher catching a student texting. I wouldn’t pull out my thesaurus and try to pack my answer with the biggest, most impressive words I could find. I wouldn’t write and re-write my response and still have a panic attack when I hit send. I wouldn’t be completely devastated when you ignored me again. No. No, I’m beyond all that.
P.S. I still hate you.