In high school, notepads were replaced with numbers as I waited every night for my teal plastic pager to vibrate with a 143 page or a 4663-64448 (goodnight). The numbers were just enough to say “I care”, but not the only way to communicate. By senior year, pagers were obsolescent and cell phones allowed for instant communication. I could chat with my prospective boyfriend any time of the day about everything and nothing and my parents were finally off my back for my house phone ringing past 10P. The sweet voice messages sent and received were spontaneous and heartfelt. You only had 25 seconds to be witty and get your point across. Unlike the messages left on your home answering machine, they were for your ears only and could be replayed a million times over by just the push of a button.
Although everyone had cell phones in college, we were brought back to our middle school days and crush notes by one small and simple item: the white board. After class, I couldn’t wait for the elevator to open up on my dorm room floor so I could see if there were any “crush notes” written across my board in neon colored ink. Even if it was smallest “Can’t wait to see you” note and wiped away by my roommate within minutes of me seeing it, it would always make my day.
Texting was never big when I was in school and dating. They weren’t very popular and no one had an unlimited packages. Just within the past few years, it seems as though texting is the only form of communication that boys know how to use. I can’t tell you the number of friends that have experienced this situation:
Boy meets girl.
Boy gets girls digits.
5 days pass….
Boy texts girl Are you out? or Plans for the night?
Does this mean that they boy is asking you out? Does he really want to meet up? And how many other girls does he text these same type of messages to? Is it too hard to pick up the phone and call?
I don’t know what it is about the texts, but they seem to be a little lack luster in my book. There isn’t any thought to them. No matter how hard you try, you can’t tell their tone or hold them in your fingers or relive their excitement over and over. It breaks my heart to know that my chances of getting a true love letter are diminishing the older I get and the more innovative technology becomes. I miss my origami…
If waiting for your own is killing you as much as it’s killing me, I highly recommend just reading Other People’s Love Letters. Although slightly voyeuristic, it’s only $15 at Amazon and will tide you over until the post man brings you one of your own.
PS- The word “texting” isn’t even recognized in spell check!