There is something about receiving those three little words, in a text, that suddenly makes you feel so present only to quickly catapult you into the past. It’s the weirdest thing. Going about life, and unexpectedly the I Miss You text comes in from an ex. Depending on how the relationship ended, length of time since then, and where I’m at present day, it can land so differently. It is still always shocking and I’m not sure why. It’s not that people don’t circle back, that happens. It’s more what those words mean. And how to respond. And, why do I feel bad for the sender?

Being pretty analytical, while my heart is feeling all the things, my mind wonders what, exactly, is he missing. And, why now? Bad date? Maybe and probably. Good memory? Maybe and probably. Having recently received this text, I can’t stop thinking about it and how, or if, I will respond. It’s been a couple days, so the window is likely almost shut. And in this exact case, I have been wondering what he is missing, as I didn’t really feel like he tried to get to know me. And our final conversation confirmed that we did not have alignment.

That text feels self-serving, like you put a little bait on a rod and see what it catches. What if he had said more after that? Maybe an apology. Or expand on what you are missing, what prompted the reach-out. I think back to those Choose Your Own Adventure books from childhood. You had a couple options, and then the story would play out following which choice you made. That’s where my mind is. I could not respond, and not answer his call the next morning, which is the path I am currently on. I could respond to the text, and choose to share that I miss him too and we would possibly pick up where we left off. Or, I could respond to the text or call, and remind him why we broke up. I prefer inaction until the action feels right and aligned, but only up to a point as not responding starts to feel rude. But why? This little text has complicated my life the last couple of days…

Note to Self: call for the big conversations. instead of text. every time.

Sharing that you miss someone is vulnerable. As opposed to the reach-out texts that we have all received and (cringe), all sent. The Hey! Just thinking of you and hope you’re well! That’s like a little tap on the door that can lead, or not lead, in different directions. Back to vulnerability. That is so attractive. And of course, scary. But baby steps. The reach out text could be one level deeper: Hey! Just thinking about you and would love to get together and catch up, if you’re interested. Boom. That would land. The problem is that we, or at least I, read what I want into any communication. There is someone who has been in my life for over 8 years. We lightly dated, but it never went anywhere, and occasionally we will meet up for coffee. Every Mother’s Day, he sends: Happy Mother’s Day! The story, I have told myself, is that this was his way of gearing up to reach out to me. His excuse. Well, this year, upon receipt, I asked if he wanted to meet for coffee before my day took off. We did and I thanked him for his yearly text. He literally said that he just goes down his contacts, and sends it to everyone he knows who is a mother. I said to him, kind of laughing, “Wow! I always felt special receiving that, until this moment, but I guess I’m the only one at coffee with you.” He pointed out that I was the only one who had asked for coffee. Let’s just say that I did not feel any pressure to send him a Father’s Day text this year.

Note to self: gotta meet people where they’re at, but you don’t have to keep meeting them once you know where they’re at.

So back to the little adventure of the I Miss You text. I’m still not sure that I want to be off Option A of not responding, and think I will continue on this path for now. Maybe I will learn the depth of the missing. It’s more than one text. It’s now a text and a phone call. Maybe that’s it. Maybe there will be a running in the rain moment. I don’t know, but I do know that the internal pressure I have felt is now replaced with curiosity. It’s not a game, but it is an adventure. XO