year two

In the summer of 2009 I was included a group Facebook message from Josh.

Hey, everybody!

Wait! Don't stop reading just because this message lacks the intimate touch that a personal correspondence would have had. I would have stopped by now, so I thank you for your continued reading.

The thing is, having a phone in your pocket is a completely fine thing to do. So is jumping in the pool, really. But it turns out that if both of these things happen too close together, you may be faced with a horrible inconvenience. And so I pass that inconvenience on to you.

I was hoping you all could help me reconstruct my depleted contact list by either texting your name to xxx.xxx.xxxx, or responding with your number to this message.

I suppose that if you have been looking for just such an opportunity to get my incessant calls to stop, now is your chance to not respond. Otherwise, I'd love to be able to reach you sometime. Especially all of you beautiful ladies.

 

That may have been creepy,

Josh

It had been months since I'd seen him and over a year since I'd dated him, so the logical part of me said I should ignore it. Why would I need him to have my number? I honestly expected to never date him again. For whatever reason, though, I texted him; he had my number again.

What if I hadn't responded to that group message? What if he didn't have my number when he'd want it a few months later? When he'd finally get that urge to call after so long, would he have bothered to track me down, or would he have just chalked it up to fate, letting me go?

Maybe things would have still worked out. But maybe not. All I know is that I'm sure glad that I texted him my number, because otherwise I might not have had this day two years ago.

 

Happy anniversary, love. You're the best choice I've ever made.