ex-texts

I love texting. I'm sry, I luv txting. Srsly. It's s00oo00oo kewl. I was really against it for a while, but that went the way of most of my values - down the shitter. I'm like "we're making plans by typing on an impossibly small keyboard, taking us 20 minutes to solidify what could have been done in 2 on the phone?" and now, after I've become a texter, I can't even answer the phone because I've forgotten how.

Of course, once I embraced texting, my life changed. However, I only was allowed to embrace texting after I got off my family plan and got my own plan because my dad was so against the thought of people sending messages rather than speaking face to face. Yeah, guess who texts me now? Dad. He just learned what "LOL" means...and, apparently, he's LOLing more than ever before because every. damn. text. I get from him has LOL. LOL. "Having good day at work? LOL" or "Call me when u get this LOL!!!!!!!!!" or "Mom's in hospital. LOL" My dad is riding LOLler skates.

So, the only time I hate texting is when I get a text from the ex. The ExText. I've made a conscious decision to remove him from my life as much as possible, blah, blah, blah. Long story short, he's not good for me. I don't speak with him for several reasons:

1. So he won't be under the impression that I'm even remotely interested. After so much back-and-forth, on-again/off-again shenanigans, I've found this is simply the best policy.
   
2. Self-protection. I've found that he can't affect me if I don't let him.
3. No real interest in doing so.

I'm not ruling out ever speaking with him again. I am ruling out ever dating him again, though. Not an ice cube's chance in hell. There's always the possibility that Tinkerbell will fly in from Neverneverland and sprinkle him with some magic powder and he suddenly learns to take responsibility for his actions. There's also the possibility that responsibility will never come. Which is why I just figure it's best to pack up, move on, and move out and let him do the same.

Except, oh, he's not. I think the limit is 3 weeks. 3 weeks until he just can't take it anymore, and he absolutely must text me. I'm being totally honest, here. These are real texts sent between he and I. An actual exchange:

Ex: "I miss you, Wes."
Me: "i bet you do."

(I don't like to capitalize in my texts.)

Ninety percent of the time, I just don't respond to him. I don't play into the whole game. I feel like they're often just a test to see if maybe I'll give him the time of day, and then he can be sustained and live for 3 more weeks. Come to think of it, it'd really be so awesome if all someone needed to survive was me saying "hey." I'd fucking go to Africa and be like "hey, you guys," and problems solved.

This time, it was different. I just had to reply. I really, really hate getting his texts when I'm happy. When I'm sad, they make me happy because there's someone more sad than me. When I'm happy, it makes me so mad I just want to clean. I bet you thought I was going to say "kill someone" or something. Nope, I clean when I'm mad. So keep the ExTexts coming, man, and shit'll be spotless around here real soon.

But really. I'm dating a new guy. I dig this guy a lot. It's like I'm waking up to what a real, healthy, happy relationship could be, and when that's the case, it's not hard to get out of bed. We'll call him "Him." I have a feeling Him will be around, so I'm confident we can give him a name. We'll capitalize Him, too, like when God's pronouns are capitalized. Him. Him makes me happy. Him sends me texts all the time, too, and all the time they're texts that make me...not want to clean, if you catch my drift. Him is such a genuinely good guy. It's easy to forget that they still exist.

So, when I'm literally waking up on Saturday, thinking about Him and what a cutie stud muffin he is, and if this beautiful Saturday will be a Saturday where his Saturday and my Saturday intertwine for a moment or two and it becomes our Saturday. And then I look at the phone. New TEXTS! The possibility of our Saturday! And... it's the ex.

"Hi." 9:08am
"Can we please see each other." 9:10am
"I miss you too much." 9:10am
"Please. I'm not dating anyone...if that makes any difference." 9:21am

I didn't respond to any of these. Four separate texts, with no response from me. 9am on a fucking Saturday. I decide that this should be dealt with swiftly and effectively, unlike anything George W. Bush ever did.

Me: "stop. we're not going to see each other whether you're dating someone or not. there are other fish in the sea and i think you should give them a try."
Ex: "I just want to see you. Can we please just hang out."
Me: "no, we cannot. please stop texting me."

So, he agrees to stop...

...Until that afternoon.

Ex: "Wesley please? Come over. Or let's go to lunch. I just want to see you and talk to you."
Me: "i'd rather die."
Ex: "Why have you turned into such an immature unkind person? It sucks."
Me: "even more reason for you to stop texting me. you are no longer in my life and i'm happier that way. please leave me alone now." (And now...the real motivation for these texts is finally revealed.)
Ex: "Whatever Wes. If you ever get horny and want it...let me know." (Oh my God, right? Like, have you no shame? I mean, really!)
Me: "gross. get a life."

The ex then sends me 4 more angry ExTexts calling me a "ninkumpoop" (seriously. SRSLY!!) before finally declaring, for the record, that he's "not gross you bully." That was the final text. After I told him to get a life, I felt like in order for him to believe that I do really, genuinely, honestly, seriously, I'm not fucking kidding you, want him to get a life, I had to stop playing into the game and just stop texting. So, I did. Haven't heard from him since. I'll get back to you in 3 weeks. :(

The point of this isn't to air dirty laundry; it's not even to talk shit about my ex. I think somewhere in there, my ex is a good person, misguided terribly and with some real difficult challenges to overcome personally. I think we all have those, so I don't consider it "calling him out," to say these things. I'm an open person, and I believe in honesty and disclosure. I think so much time is spent these days dancing around the real issues, and it's insulting to you and I to think that we're not capable of having these dialogues and conversations with each other. It's insulting to think that I shouldn't write about my ex and his crazy ExTexts on my own blog for fear...of anything.

The point is to document the saga of trying to move on from a relationship that's clearly over. I think it's a funny story, too. If I were one of those people who thinks that life is a series of tests, I'd think that these ExTexts were just little challenges to see if I'm really ready to let go of ex and grab hold of Him. Unfortunately, I don't believe that life is about tests. Fortunately, that doesn't change the outcome of what's happened. Test or no test, I just plain don't feel anything for him anymore. For those who know me more intimately than through my blog, and really, for anyone who's had to get over a serious relationship, you know how awesome it is to just not have the ex phase you. I mean, I've received ExTexts and it phases me only in the aspect that there hasn't been text blocking technology harnessed yet. (Seriously, what the fuck?)

What I've found is that yes, the ExTexts make me mad a little. Then, I realize that they also make me think of Him a lot more. The good Him. These silly ExTexts just remind me how lucky I am to have this little spark in my life. I could go on and on and on, but let's not jinx it.

Today is His birthday. We've known each other for a while now, and He's even seen me at my worst in that relationship. He's seen the person I was and the person I grew to be now. In that time, there's been lots that He's seen and felt to make him run 10,000 miles in the other direction from me and set up an electric fence and give me the collar. And He's still here. And He likes me...or tries to.

I just hope he knows that I'd welcome any text from Him anytime, anywhere, as long as it's 160 characters or less.