Woke up this morning to Wiley calling me. I have not spoken to Wiley in two months since he dramatically and obnoxiously stormed off on me at Stout worse than a PMS-ing 16-year-old finding out she was grounded and not allowed to go on Facebook anymore. He is the reason the people at Stout now know me so well because of how dramatic a re-break-up date that was. Ugh. How embarrassing, being known for being yelled at for “BREAKING MY FUCKING HEART OVER AND OVER AND OVER THIS IS BULLSHIT I’M DONE WITH YOU!” I shudder at the thought. So, I decided to let it go to voicemail to see what he could possibly have to say to me, and to see if he even meant to call to begin with. When I was a crazy conniving cunt (contrary to what you may think, I am currently nothing of the sort), I used to call up or text ex boyfriends really randomly and let it ring JUST ONCE or send a blank text so that they were FORCED to think about me but then to see what their reaction would be. And FUCK YOU cuz I know PLENTY of girls (and crazy co-dependent fucked up boys) who do this too! Anyway, like I expected, there was no voicemail. So fuck it, I called back right away and, OF COURSE, had to leave a message because he did not pick up:
Me: *in all-too-sweet-it’s-been-too-long-but-I-really-don’t-give-a-shit-anyway voice* Hiiiii Wiley, it’s Jay. I just saw you called. Not sure if you meant to, but if you did, call me back I’d love to hear from you (NOT). If you don’t, I hope everything’s going all right.
Within a couple minutes, I received a TEXT reply back from Wiley in typically quintessential I-still-have-absolutely-no-communication-skills-whatsoever form. He said that he had accidentally pocket-dialed me (which is fucking bullshit), but that he hoped I was doing well (which I fucking am). OK FIRST of all, iPhones don’t pocket-dial, which is bullshit, and even if they do, it happens IF AND ONLY IF:
1. The current screen pulled up is your RECENT CALLS and the side of your pants has SOMEHOW hit ONE of those calls BEFORE the phone locks
2. ……………………….I’m pretty sure there’s SOOOME other way it can pocket-dial but I can’t seem to think of any but insert that reason here
Nice try, asshole. I simply reply stating that I’m well and that maybe next time I can get an intentional phone call because I really do miss him (which is pretty much a lie; I had just woken up and thought I’d entertain myself by starting my day off in a cynically manipulative way…I’m starting my period so I have every right to dammit). He then proceeded to send me a slew of reply texts explaining that he missed me and that he was very sorry for the way he stormed off on me (he deserved a day-time emmy for that one…or possibly a nod of recognition from the soap opera review board) and that maybe he should learn to control his emotions and maybe we’ll meet again one day and bla bla bla bla bla. I chose not to respond. Take that for communication, asshole.
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