I want words to mean something, and sometimes they don't come across as intended behind a screen and with a keyboard.
It might be awfully hypocritical of me to say that; I willingly write on my laptop, most of my romantic relationships had roots behind a phone screen, music is literally my life support and without YouTube, I don't know what I'd do. But I feel like it's inevitable in the now. I can't get away from things like that. But never have I felt so much need to loosen its power on me.
Texting is impersonal to me. I can't see true intentions. They're tainted by my head voice, and the way that I want them to come across.
I'm eighteen now, a senior in high school, feeling too old for this generation and like no one understands me. That's also how I know I am in the right spot. Because I do not know who I am, or my productivity in society, or how I impact people.
I do know how I want to come across to people, though. Perks of being emotionally dependent on myself.
What I haven't figured out is everyone else's intentions. And texting, or Snapchatting, or "hitting people's DMs" hasn't helped apply any clarity to that.
And with that, come the times when I'm angry, or sad, or carry these really strong emotions and I want to get them across to my recipient of my messages. Now I do understand that they might not know my intentions either. They're not mind readers. And even then, when I have sorted those strong emotions out, the misinterpretation in text messages is still prominent.
As I sit here, and I read your messages to me, I picture us in a pitch black room, with a spotlight on you and I. The spotlight is beaming down on us, and we're sat in identical chairs, facing each other. When your message pops up, I picture the way you say it. The image is prejudice and twisted by the way I view you, I do believe that. I picture your hands moving wildly, in whatever tone you are using. I come up with points you are trying to make. I completely ignore myself in this picture, until I'm crafting my response, as you're respectfully watching me from the place you are seated.
In most situations, I find comfort in this. You wouldn't say anything that couldn't be said to my face, right? You'd never have the audacity. You know our relationship, you know our own cues and our own limitations, or what needs development, or our own inside jokes.
And yet there are still people out there ignoring this. Ignoring that decency rule, about how they'd never say this to another person's face, had they have received the chance to. But some of those people would swear up and down that they would.
So would they tell me that they loved me even though they didn't to my face? Would they make accusations towards me, profile me, belittle me, if they could see the way that I reacted to it through their own eyes? Would they make the societally unacceptable jokes that comfort them to me if instead of it being the second night texting, it was the second night taking the same class in school as them?
Most of the time, unfortunately, the elephant in the room is ignored. In this case, the one that has a big, fat no painted across it in red.
That is why I would rather give out a time and place than my number and social media handles. That is why my last resort is communicating with you through text. That is why there's that lump in my throat fueled by my worry that we'd share these beautiful things, but not look at one another, or be scared to hug one another.
I don't want to be the person that takes initiative on everything. Often times, it is the gadget in their hands or lap or on their tabletops that enables them to hide.
Talk to me. And if you don't want to talk to me, talk to someone else. With your mouth, and hands, and lively facial expressions and body language. It is so refreshing when people have something to say to me, and I can hear it rather than read it. I can see your mouth move rather than the dots move as I wait for a message back. So I can feel your playful shove, or your hand on my shoulder, or arms around me, and not the vibration of my phone in my pocket.
I don't want to memorize your number, I want to memorize your smile.
I want to know you, not my phone screen.