“Good morning sweetie. How are you today?”
I looked at the text a few times and smiled before sending my reply. That was the first time.
When your marriage dies a long painful death you forget or at least pretend you don’t need certain things. Over time the idea of hearing or saying something kind seems unnecessary and fake. The truth is everyone wants to be told they’re appreciated and cared for.
“I’m doing good beautiful, how are you?” A sincere compliment to someone who thinks I’m ok, gives me a big hug whenever we meet, smiles and looks at me that way. I never forgot those things but I forgot how much I missed them.
You’re pretty and I’d like to hang out with to get to know you better but…
“Hey…wanted 2 say hi & c 4 the rest of the wk what ur eves r looking like..”
I had to read it a couple of times actually to determine you want to get together this week. That might be cool but I don’t know if I can get myself to reply to your text. Back in third grade I had a GF who smelled like milk. She was really pretty and we were a solid couple for at least a recess or two but the milk smell killed it for me. I found out later it was actually a type of cream she used that was edible too. I don’t remember all of the details but she brought some in for ‘show and tell’ one day and said it was used commonly in her native country though I don’t remember where she was from. She had porcelain skin so I guess it worked.
That was a long time ago and I’ve grown up in so many ways. Over the years I’ve learned that everyone has their quirks and we should appreciate our differences. I have this weird thing where I always wash my feet first when I take a shower. My ex had this weird thing where whenever she ate cucumber it made her hiccup. I swear it could be one little bite and the hiccups would start. It was funny and it didn’t cause the breakup. That proves I’ve grown in some ways.
Maybe with age I’ve become crabby and intolerant of things, even a little thing like the way someone texts. I’ll try to look past it but if we do date I can’t help but wonder if I’ll eventually break up with you because of the way you text? I guess in some ways I might still be that little asshole in third grade.