Motorola Love: Texting Between the Sheets


 

My childhood crush and I spent the majority of our time on the phone listening to one another breathe. Every once in a while, we may have told a joke that needed some explaining afterward, or twiddled our thumbs while the other person sang along to some song on the radio.

This was in seventh grade, and although breathing each other into the next morning was sweet, it became stale after the fifth phone call. We both knew we could have had more fun playing outside, but were so infatuated with one another, we couldn’t bear to end our time together. In the cases when we did hang up, chances were, we would call back within the next fifteen minutes to do it all over again. Eventually, I decided to write him letters.

The kind you mail.

In high school, I discovered a new way to communicate with the opposite sex. Chat rooms and instant messaging. When America Online hit, I was able to run away from long bouts of silence and into two or three new conversations with just a simple click of the mouse. I could say “goodnight” and quickly log-off; bypassing the “you hang up” “no, you hang up” back and forth. Most important, I did not have to worry about the anxiety that would always bubble up when on the phone with a crush. The screen served as a barrier, and a smiley face could mask any insecurity.

In college, I bought my first cell phone.  I ran my bill up to over $500 dollars and instead of paying it, used my scholarship money to buy a bike. My first bill I couldn’t afford to pay, was trailed by the first guy I fell in some sort of love with.  He was an odd mixture of curve cologne and women’s deodorant.  He was the talk of the town and I felt lucky to have my name on his tongue. Whenever he called, I would revert back to my seventh grade self and found that I had little to say. I don’t know if this was out of habit, or because I had not yet taken speech 150. It wasn’t until we would hang up, that I regained my senses and realized I had plenty to talk about.

I figured that if I wanted to have a decent conversation with this guy, I’d have to start practicing. I imagined him on the other end of the phone, listening to me talk about my day, him responding inquisitively, and me answering. More times than not, I got carried away and began fantasizing about a conversation that usually ended up with us naked in the woods. At this point, it would have been nice to realize that I was tripping. But like most people who are kind of in love, I continued to practice. Always fumbling over my words, when all I really wanted to say was “I miss you”.

I have since graduated college, am paying more bills than my wallet could swallow and am no longer considering homework as a valid past time. Instead I date. And with every conversation, I am taken back to seventh grade; tripping over words when all we really mean to say is “I like you”.  Only this time, text messaging is the culprit.

“LoL-ing” me in the morning is a good way to kick off the day, but nowhere near as a warm as waking up to a smile wrapped around my waist. We’ve gotten caught up in being satisfied with thumbing our way through conversations. I have spent way too much time trying to construct clever one-liners to garner an even more clever response. Too many times have I typed, deleted, and re-typed in hopes that I will be understood. The seventh grade Talia would be content sending smiley faces in hopes that he will interpret them as genuine gestures of affection. The post grad, student loan consolidated Talia, would rather hug and be hugged. Sounds pretty simple, but would mean that one of us would have to get out of bed and into our cars, use gas reserved for work, get out of the car, walk in the cold, get the hug, then dance around the tension of what’s next. Some tongue action? An overnight hump session? Or nothing more than a thought-filled ride home. Alone. Whatever the outcome, aren’t we worth it all? If you think about it, staying in bed with a backlight and winky face is just as, if not more lonesome than the solitary ride home. But with the latter, at least you were able to get your feel on.

I’m thinking about giving my thumbs a rest and do what I’ve been nervous to do all along. Call him. Let my nerves squiggle until they tire and then get on talking about my day. Hoping that before the conversation is over, we’ll end up in the woods somewhere.

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21 thoughts on “Motorola Love: Texting Between the Sheets

  1. I hate getting texts unless it’s just to tell me something quick that doesn’t require any further conversation or I’m busy (at the day job, or somewhere else where I can’t talk freely). But it seems like these days a lotta ppl would rather text back and forth FOREVER when it could all be handled in a 5 minute conversation. I don’t get why folks prefer to make me read and type (ha) as opposed to pushing a button and talking to me live. Texting with romantic interests is even worse (and one of my new ways of screening out ppl who will most likely be a waste of time) but again it seems like most people these days prefer texts to actual conversation. Guess I was born in the wrong era and/or planet.

  2. When I was a junior in college I worked at Starbucks. I used to work crazy hour. I mean wake up for when the zombies were still playing in the street. Well as I woke up I wipe the sleep out of my eyes got ready for work and text my girlfriend a poem each morning. Always something different, always something unique so I could touch her soul and she feel my heart. She wake up and send me a smiley face with “Awh that was sweet” or my favorite: “I miss You so much”.

    I am not saying texting should be the ultimate form of standard communication, but it can still make someone feel grand. I hate talking on the phone. Face to face I can talk all on life and whats around, but on the phone I suck. I am always doing something and I get distracted real easy like.

    But once again Ms. Taylor I feel you, the person you care for is worth the ultimate showing, a hug and a warm “I miss you like fish miss water.”

    • texting a poem every morning…how can i possibly turn my nose up at that? definitely a smart move once you’ve already wiggled your way in. but if you’re not sure how much wiggle room you have, then an everyday text might get you pushed off the mat entirely. yeah? or no?

      • Right Tru-Right tru. That would be overwhelmingly frightening. But lets say once a week if the the relationship is fresh, sending a text message just to start your main interest week off on a good foot, why wouldn’t you like that. Don’t look at the text as a group of words put together, see it as ‘Damn, i just wanted to let you you know that you are on my mind like my favorite melody.” just a sign of appreciation to you.

  3. can u imagine the advantage we’ve gained in thumb wrestling? Danny and sally sittin in a tree k i s s i n g…….and on the sly t-e-x-t-i-n-g their side pieces. Maybe its one more way to give others a sense of freedom. I treat using the phone like taking a long bubble bath.only when time space and mind permits.usually its purposefully extended to resonate with that person. I find that most women even if they don’t like to text, they’ll put up with it toget closer.whynot? Sometime i don’t text out of respect for who im physically present with.i guess there’s an unspoken etiquette. Id call ppl more if i didn’t feel like i was being pigeonholed with questions like what are u doing 10 days from now.cuz when i say im not sure they tell me great, i need a ride to so and so or etc. If i had a girlfriend id talk to her everyday with no pressure , on the phone and text. And email.and an occassional written letter. When ur just getting to know someone,texting is safer than diving in the deep end.savers not always better. The thumb has spoken .peace

  4. Yo T!
    Thank you for keeping analog man up on the (technological) game of love. It makes me feel good to know that while I may technically challenged, my conventional skills of communication are still intact. More importantly, it is encouragingly beautiful to watch the evolution of a wordsmith.

    Nice!

    Sipper

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