So I took the easy way out and emailed. After such a long silence, a phone call seemed way too sudden. Plus, with email I got to avoid the nervousness of listening to his line ring, waiting to see if he’ll pick up. No awkward voice messages when he doesn’t answer. No butterflies in the pit of my stomach when I hear that once-familiar voice on the other end.
The strangest part about writing him was thinking about everything he’s missed. The last time we spoke was early January, and since then I’ve had a lot of milestones: new city, new apartment, new roommate, new job, new friends. The list goes on. It felt odd to open myself back up to Alex and share all that, but I really only gave him a peek. I hit the major points while glossing over any details—it was the kind of email I’d send an aunt who I haven’t seen for a while (speaking of which, I should really write my aunt…).
Skipping the details I used to share so freely with him was almost sad, but at least I reached out. I asked how he’s doing, what he’s been up to, how his family and friends are. Of course I want to know how he is, but the main reason I broke the silence was because I want us to be in each other’s lives (even if only a little bit). And if we went for too long without speaking, I feared it would set up a pattern of not being in touch. Despite the fact that I’m moving on with my life, I’m not ready for him to drop off the face of the earth.
Now all that’s left to do is wait for his reply. Unless he really is mad, at which point I’m screwed.