Text messsaging

I rely, every day, on this form of communication.  I was so resistant to obtaining a phone.  I was unwilling to be available to people at all times.  I remember being indignant.  Why should I be available at all times?  I liked my independence and people leaving messages on the answering machine.  Yes, I do know what that is.  

Then, Brian died.  Suddenly, I was traveling, solo (more frequently) and kept hearing the echo of my sister's voice in my head.  (Get a phone, dummy).  I need to know where you are, who you are with, that you aren't stuck in Utah (the JLo/Billy Bob Thorton Movie, U-Turn).  Michaela was adamant that I was in communicado.  I bought a phone to appease my sister.  

I began dating this man who understood my need for communication.  I had been involved with a man, prior, who I always made excuses for.  He would drop off the face of the earth and I would make excuses for him.  Looking back, it was like I was walking in the Sahara Desert.  My crazy, ultimately, did not line up with his crazy.  He would never be able to fulfill my love of communication.   I do not regret that love and relationship. Ultimately, we traveled well, ate well, drank well.  We hurt each other in ways that I didn't understand. He could never be the man that I wanted him to be.  He enjoyed being the Mayor of his stretch of community.  I only wish we could have finished on better terms.  Isn't that what second loves teach us?  He was an incredible lesson.  I do not regret that that.  I wish him the best.  

Currently, I am involved with someone I did not ever imagine would transpire.   Older, wiser, kind.... he understands me in ways that others have not.    He calls.  He texts.  He listens.

He would text me when he woke.  Call me back if I butt-dialed.  Text me, daily, to say good night.  It has been nonstop for over a year.  I am reliant on it.  

So, when that system breaks down, I implode.  I re-examine the last text I receive from him.  Some silly text about my boobs.  Typically, he is observant.  Engaging in making me feel tremendous.  Truly, he is an incredible man.  

I call him.  I text him.  I wait.  When he doesn't respond. I am at a loss.  I try to be positive.  I reach out to his friends.  Hopeful.  His car isn't at his house.  Promising news.

But then he isn't at work.  It doesn't track.  Still no communication from the person that texts me, at least, 50 times a day.  Seriously, I have forced myself to delete texts to clear up space on my phone.  27.000 texts deleted in a year.  Is that normal?

He is safe.  At home.  I am giving him space to figure out his next chapter.  Irritated, at times.  Not lying. I became reliant on the constant back and forth.  I miss my sparring partner.