I have a habit of saving old texts. I’m not really saving them, I’m just lazy so I never delete them. And I have an iPhone so it stores all my conversations with all of my friends. It’s like a time machine. I can see the last time I talked to friends that are no longer with us. I can see what we used to talk about and the random pictures we sent each other, and even though they’ve passed on, I can still pretend like they’re here. I occasionally glance over conversations with ex-girlfriends from time to time. They are like badly written mini romance novels… you see how the courtship started, you see it getting hot and heavy, and you see it start to falter before it explodes into a thousand pieces, and then you see the awkward transition from being in a relationship to forming a new tentative friendship. I can look up old jokes or bring up funny cat pictures that somebody sent me four years ago. I can also view the last time I talked to an old friend, it’s a reminder to keep in touch with people you can’t see everyday. Saving old texts might be viewed as hoarding to some people, but I don’t see anything wrong with holding on to memories. What we did made us who we are.
Critically Rated at 14/17
Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young
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