My phone is already more than two years old. This weekend, not wanting to be idle (as idle minds breed evil thoughts said one of my teachers in college who is a member of Opus Dei), I embarked on a very painful task of cleaning up my inbox. Painful because some messages dated back as far May 2007. Although most were forwarded messages, which I found cute when I was 21, painfully melodramatic when I was 22, and maudlin now that I am 23, I had a hard time choosing what to let go and delete and what to keep until the last days of my phone.
I did not have enough courage to erase text jokes sent by my high school classmates. Yes, they’re over-the-top, corny, and unintellectual, but I admit they are drop-dead funny. I am very shallow when it comes to humor, as my mind, for some unknown reason, was not programmed to comprehend intelligent jokes.
There were messages about love sent to me by anonymous people using anonymous numbers. I ignored most of them, thinking they were incorrectly sent to me. But their sheer number made me suspect otherwise. I shun too much affectation, and have long gone love-less. So I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and plunged into the abyss by deleting all these messages. With them went the chances of realizing romantic union with somebody who at one point thought of me as the subject of something as sublime (and yes, noble) as true love.
Tormenting mind games which were sent to me but whose answers eluded me until this time, without second thoughts, were erased. The senders of these messages who harbor sadistic tendencies by giving me those impossible mind games each received a chain text message from me that warned them about something bad that’s going happen to their mothers if they do not send that message to 100 people — explicitly saying “100 different people of a different network”.
My mother’s sent-to-all-her-six-children text massages, although annoyingly generic, were retained out of deference and respect for her. I guess my other siblings would also think it sacrilegious to delete her messages that contain all good words about the Almighty.
Speaking of these religious/spiritual/Bible-verse text messages, I am not very keen on their poetry, so I willed, after a brief silence, to move them to a different dimension where electronic bytes go after the delete button is pressed.
And lastly, those messages from people I used to love. Things may have changed and feelings gone, but it is comforting to be reminded that somebody used to love me, who used to promise to stay forever but realized that forever is only as long as 17 months, or three weeks. The long ones, those that were clearly lies, were trashed.
But the “I miss yous”, “I love yous”, “Nakakaon ka na?“, “Halong ka ha.” — these will definitely have to remain in my inbox.