I’m only human — when I’m five shots deep, I have my vices. Yours might be latenight ordering chicken wings. Your boyfriend’s is probably destroying random pieces of old furniture and throwing them off balconies for no apparent reason at all. Mine? It’s an unmistakable feeling. My fingers start itching. I need attention, and I need it now.
So what do I do? I text. I text old boyfriends and guys who’ve ghosted and asked what went wrong. I text guys I like, and aggressively — honestly, I don’t even want to recount it. It’s bad. It’s real bad. There are other girls like me. So we come up with little methods to stop ourselves from the inevitable. These are my favorite ways to disappoint myself.
The Method: Changing his name in your phone to any of the following warnings:
- DO NOT CONTACT.
- He doesn’t like you.
- Satan
- You literally have no self-respect if you do this.
The Theory: The harsh reminder will stop me from making a mistake.
The Reality: LOLOLOLOLOL. No it won’t! You know what he did and why you don’t want to text him whether or not you have a stupid “warning” message. Aggressive messages don’t work on your alarm clock in the morning, and they’re not going to work now.
The Method: Blocking his number.
The Theory: If I block his number, not only will I not be able to text him, but he won’t be able to text me! So I won’t even be tempted when I’m drunk to reply.
The Reality: But you want to “just check” if he’s texting you, so you enter a seemingly endless cycle of blocking and unblocking him, meaning you’re paying more attention to his contact in your phone than you would have if you hadn’t blocked his number to begin with.
The Method: Deleting his number, and storing it in your friend’s phone.
The Theory: You won’t be able to text him aggressively without his number, but your friend can use her discretion if texting him would be appropriate in a given situation.
The Reality: Your drunk ass friend is just as uninhibited as you are, and she will crack the second you ask her to let you text him. And even if she doesn’t? You know that bitch’s password, and can easily get into her phone to retrieve his number.
The Method: Deleting his number, and writing it down on a piece of paper you leave home.
The Theory: If you don’t even have his number out with you on your person, you can’t text him!
The Reality: Yes, because when you get home at 3:00am after no fewer than 10 drinks in you, that is the perfect time to be reunited with the piece of paper you’ve been thinking about all night. You never fuck up your diet and eat everything in sight once you get home, so you probably won’t cave on this the second you get home either.
The Method: Deleting his number, writing it down, and having your roommate hide the paper.
The Theory: Even wasted you can’t fuck up what she doesn’t know.
The Reality:*Cue to you looking through every old receipt, class note, and piece of paper in your home until you find it.*
The Method: Drink until you black out, do whatever the fuck you want, and just delete your messages before you wake up in the morning.
The Theory: If there’s no evidence, it didn’t happen.
The Reality: This one works every time..