Gotye, You Clever Fellow

I got a text from someone I used to date (like eighty grillion years ago, when tyrannosaurs roamed the earth thinking, why do I have these puny little arms? I can’t high-five ANYONE) and I totally shouldn’t reply. Because there’s a reason we USED to date and then CEASED to date.

Do not reply to that, I think sternly.

But I wanna, whines the part of my brain that is perpetually a 15 year old girl.

NO!

The text, by the way, isn’t anything earth shattering. What it is, clearly, is a test of the waters.

Like, hey, haven’t seen you in forever, we should get a beer.

Which is funny because it’s so CASUAL, as though it’s not out of the blue at ALL, as though he has a reason to be texting me, as though it’s been just a couple of weeks since we hung out, none of which are accurate or true.

So I totally shouldn’t respond.

I don’t want to respond.

I DO WANT TO RESPOND.

I want to say: why are you texting me? WHY ARE YOU TEXTING ME?

I want to say nothing.

And the 15 year old in my head, who loves any kind of attention, totally wants to say YES! Let’s have a beer so we can continue down the path where we do our best to destroy each other’s lives OMG THAT’S SO FUN!

It’s kind of not fun, though. It’s kind of tormenting and unnecessary.

And I think that statement – the one where I say that the drama isn’t worth it, that what we bring to each other is not worth the bullshit that we drag each other through, unintentionally, simply by being who we are – makes me realize that, though I might not be the most mature or stable person on the planet, I am one who is becoming wiser. I have grown.

It’s a revelation.

It’s enough of a revelation, in fact, that I delete the text entirely, without worrying that doing so is rude or that I’m not being nice or even caring about it at all. Because I know that when he doesn’t hear from me he’ll shrug it off, and then maybe, in a few months or a year, when he’s bored or (more likely) a little drunk, he’ll remember that he misses me, and dig out my number – but in between, he won’t think of me at all.

But next time, there won’t be any debate in my head at all as to what to do.

And if someone says, “Who was that text from?” I’ll just tell them: Someone that I used to know.