It’s The Little Things That Kill Us
A little sacrifice here, a little “I’ll just tolerate it” there, and before you know it, you’re 20 miles from home and have no idea how you got there.
A little sacrifice here, a little “I’ll just tolerate it” there, and before you know it, you’re 20 miles from home and have no idea how you got there.
Once I started thinking about life without texting, I realized I hadn’t ever stopped to consider that there might be another way to be in contact.
How the actual fuck am I going to survive being single and #textless? That’s a whole separate beast I’m not gonna dangle a steak in front of right now.
2017, you showed me how to love myself across months of confusion, mayhem, and sorrow.
Texting doesn’t feel real. There’s no accountability.
There’s a huge distinction between noise and love; between contact and communication. We don’t ever have to feel that distinction, or learn from it, because our text-heavy culture drowns it out.
It’s the one form of communication where we’re all equally reachable and the conversation never ends.
This implicit rule on calling vs. texting must be an indicator that it’s not really about doing what feels good anymore. Courtship has become centered around keeping options open. Staying comfortable. Staying safe.
Eliminating texting has removed the most forgiving medium for the “white lie” to live in. We get away with murder in the House of Text. We spill blood, but never have to get it on our hands.
“But how am I going to get a hold of you?” they say.