I remember it so clearly, so vividly, to this day…
It was a rainy afternoon and I was bundled up in my apartment, watching an endless stream of Parks and Rec episodes. I was happy, cocooned in my fuzzy blanket while holding a mug of delicious tea {with milk and two sugars, of course}, but eventually, something felt… off. It was almost like I could sense a metaphorical storm was about to hit me, but I didn’t know what it would be.
The television flashed those words we all dread, the ones that prove you’ve been sitting in front of a screen for too long: “Are you still watching?” I fearfully pressed yes, hoping things would continue the way they had been for that past few hours, but that’s not always the way it goes, is it?
The table next to me suddenly vibrated. Startled, I looked for the source of the vibrations.
My phone.
I stretched my arm out as far as it could go in an attempt to grab it. I simply couldn’t get up and ruin my nest made out of blankets. I thrust my arm towards my phone, grunting from the physical exertion {so that’s why tennis players do it…}, but alas, my arm was too short and the table upon which my phone sat was much too long.
I had to stand. I had to gain my courage and battle the chilly apartment air if I ever wanted to know who was contacting me.
*vrrrrr vrrrrrr*
My phone rang again. It was a reminder text. I had to see what this message was.
I peeled the blanket back and was immediately struck with the cold of a million winters. I began shivering uncontrollably… With teeth chattering and goosebumps forming, I stood up, grabbed my phone and leaped back onto the couch. I grabbed for my blanket and tried to curl back into the position I was in before, but it wasn’t the same… The second time is never the same…
I took a few tries to unlock my phone, since my fingers were shaking so much that I couldn’t type my password correctly. This must be what frostbite feels like… This must be the end. I couldn’t let this defeat me; I needed to power through, I needed to see this message. One try away from disabling my phone for a full minute, I finally typed those four little numbers correctly.
I tapped the little green speech bubble at the bottom of my screen, eagerness filling my mind, curiosity gripping hold of my brain. The message was from a boy I met a few days ago at a coffee shop.
“hey haha,” it read.
I replied, sparking a conversation.
Soon he sent me a seemingly-innocent message, that now gives me a lump in my throat: “whatr u up too.”
Ignoring his poor grammar, I replied. I didn’t come this far to simply quit now; I owed it to my previously-comfy self.
“Nothing much. What about you?”
He responded almost immediately, almost like he was waiting for me to reply to that one text.
“Nothin ;) lolllll ,” clearly this boy had never picked up a dictionary before, but I continued to look past the school system that clearly failed him.
Before I could type my response, another message appeared on the screen, one so haunting that it still sends shivers down my spine: “soooooo wanna watch netflix n chill?”
I didn’t know what to respond. My world felt like it was suddenly crashing down— I had wasted my time talking to this boy and now I had missed the plot of the Parks and Rec episode that I promised Netflix I was watching, I was now a liar; I left my comfort-cocoon behind for the curiosity of a text message; I left my tea, still half full, to turn from a warm friend to an icy-cold stranger…
I had lost myself in a conversation that hit a wall of determination and ricocheted off a wall of loneliness. What I’m trying to say is… This boy was desperate, and his lack of game was even more astounding.
It was at that moment that I realized my trepidation from before, I could sense one of these text messages would come… I just never thought it would be like this. Yes, I had achieved my intended goal of answering my phone, but at what cost… At what cost??
I locked my phone before I lost anymore of my afternoon, and left coffee-shop-boy to stare at the “Read 2:34 PM” that he deserved.
To this day, I am still haunted by the memory of that terrifying afternoon. When my iPhone buzzes, my heart still jumps a little at the thought of the souls of desperate boys trying to leap out from the phone and onto my couch.
So from now on… Whenever your phone buzzes in the middle of the night (or the middle of the day, in my case) and you think you’re safe, make sure to brace yourself before reading that text- because overprivileged 20-something boys are on the prowl, and no one is safe from that fateful message…
Thumbnail by Gilles Lambert on Unsplash.