So I just started at the new job recently, and they gave me another iPhone. I am an embarrassment of riches most of the time. I know. So I immediately fwd'ed all calls to my personal phone so I wouldn't have to look after it. I am not coordinated enough (physically or mentally) to have two phones. I go through a full body seizure every time the thing vibrates, plus I naturally yell "fuck!" too, which.. well it's simply beyond my control. And I do it EVERY time. Imagine having two. They would need to find a ward for me. It would be bad.
So I pretty much keep my new work phone in the drawer of my desk.
BUT... I check it from time to time when I am bored on a conference call and I noticed that I was getting some txt messages on that number.
That excited me. So what I learned about myself is this: getting messages from people 'I know' is jarring and prompts me to voilently yell explatives - but getting notes from strangers... well you'd think I came across a baby bunny. My face light's up and my neck collapses into my shoulders while I bring the phone in to read the words not meant for me. I love to read txt messages from strangers. I LOVE being accidentally contacted. Glimpsing into a 'world not my own'.
K: "Hey, I'm going to swing by and borrow BB your charger. Left mine at the office."
Me: "I wouldn't do that."
K: "Why not?"
Me: "I don't have a BB and you don't know where I am."
K: "Stop being weird."
and then days would pass.
K: "Are you running late?"
Me: "No. I'm here."
K:"Where are you?"
Me: "By the window."
K:"Which one? What are you wearing?"
Me: "Window with the tree outside of it. I'm wearing track pants and a DC Rollergirls T-Shirt. What are you wearing?"
I began to love our conversations. I looked forward to him writing. I felt it was interesting that he never checked with the person he spent so much time with to try and sort out the confusing txt messages. I began to wonder if we were married or just dating. Or if Kevin was my gay friend. I suspected he was not gay because he did not immediately address my query about what he was wearing. All the gay guys I know would have had that out in two blinks, along with associated designer names. No, Kevin was a heterosexual.
I was on a long call the other day and just decided to txt him to see if he missed me.
And when I didn't write him back immediately he became needy. I disliked this quality in Kevin.
So I broke up with him.
I became the Reality Police and pulled the curtain down. It's sad. Now I don't have anyone to fake txt.