While attempting to look up log-in information for my Express credit card account, I found this in my inbox, dated 7/21/05 :
I love you more than kisses or words could ever express. I love you more than the possible number of combinations of toppings at Emma's. I love you more than all the animal crackers in the world.
I bet breakups were probably a lot easier before technology, don't you think? Way back when, in the early nineties, before everyone had a cell phone and MySpace was something angsty teens would post in big, angry letters across their bedroom doors, you didn't have to worry about the potential emotional damage resulting from drunk dialing or obsessive online stalking. Is he seeing anyone? Does his MySpace profile say single or in a relationship? Or even, why am I still in his effing profile picture??? (Seriously, why? It's been 5 months. Change the damn picture). ((Although if you do I will cry)).
Technology makes it hard to move on. Just when you think you're safe, technology is always there, lurking around the corner, ready to jump out at you, all, Hey! Remember that one time you went apple picking together, and his sister was there and you played with babies, and then you went home and made a pie? That was a great day, huh?!
Looking for pictures of myself for online dating profiles, I waded through literally hundreds of pictures from the last three years, which coincidentally enough is pretty much the span of our relationship. France, New York, New Orleans, Maine, Maryland and Massachusetts. Turducken, Halloween, Christmas, driving, hiking, skiing, the beach. I can't look at any of it without being overwhelmed by the memories. To delete it would be like erasing an entire three years of my life. I did all of those things, I went to all of those places. I go out on dates with these new guys, and I say Yeah, I love that bar, but what I mean is we love that bar. I say, I've been to the Cape, and I mean, we've been to the Cape.
Technology is the reason I check to see if he's online, and then hope that he'll chat with me, and feel bad if he doesn't, and sometimes worse if he does. Technology is the reason I have three years of archived e-mail and daily back and forth, I'm at work and I'm bored and what do you want for dinner tonight chat conversations. (Thanks, Gmail. No really, thank you). Technology makes it easy to wallow in it, if you want to. Luckily, so far I haven't been tempted to. It's enough that I have to accidentally come across this stuff, I don't need to seek it out. Although if I ever feel the need for a good cry, I know just where to go.
So, technology, right? What's your worst/best technology story? (And don't say you don't have one, Molly and Talia, because I know that you do, and it involves a cell phone, joyriding underage minors, and a nosy and very determined Southern woman. I will blog about it, don't think that I won't!!!)