“I’ve never been held hostage, but I have been in a group text.” Anon.
That meme-worthy phrase has been around a while
During these viral ridden days when the news cycle gives us newer and fresher hells, I have never been more grateful for the groups of texters with whom I communicate regularly
I call one the Family texts
I call another the Charleston guys
I call another my New Yorkers
I call another Four Guys and a Girl
I call another Travel Buds
I eagerly watch those three pulsating dots when someone types
Then, there are the Facebook groups and Instagram groups
These people are all a life line to me, and, I hope, I to them
A lifeline of like minded souls
A lifeline of friends who are family
A lifeline of humor
So much humor
So much humor
Therapy
Recounting tales of misbegotten youth
Sharing completely inappropriate items
Shocking each other
Disagreeing
But mainly agreeing
Sending articles
Sending memes
Obsessing over the Tiger King
Bringing back phrases long forgotten
Discussing people who died over twenty years ago
Roasting one another
It’s all love writ large on iPhone keyboards
It’s also challenges to name foods named for places
It’s pictures of children
It’s complaints
It’s rants
“I’m minutes away from becoming that lady who yells at strangers!”
“Helluva an anniversary”
“Clear eyes, full heart, can’t lose”
“Where the hell is everyone?”
“Yes! that was fantastic! Next time should we do it Finnish-style?”
“I wasn’t wearing any pants, anyway!”
“The lady at the Sonesta just said, ‘But did they cancel their graduation, too?’ I said, ‘Yes, ma’am’ Her reply ‘Well…shit…oh…sorry’ I told her I understood”
Sometimes I read them and spit out the beverage I am drinking
Sometimes I read them and cry
I just know that out there across the globe there I people whom I love and who love me
In Charleston
In Beaufort
In New York
In Denver
In Malibu
In Charlotte
In Boulder
In Hartsville
In Vermont
In New Hampshire
In Shanghai
In London
Here’s to keeping all the group texts going
Here’s to keeping in touch