Worth More Than 15 Cents

I have grown up with many great advancements in technology. From the word processer, to gaming consoles, to our now hand held computers , that are good for much more than just numbers now, that seem to have made their way into every facet of our lives. I remember my first email account. I remember the joy of receiving an email from my pen pal in Halifax. I remember MSN being the way my first real relationship got started. I also remember receiving the email that ended it.

We have put down the pen to become button pushers. I have seen kids with lightning fast thumbs, mashing out a message on a tiny black brick to their “bff” who isn’t out of class yet. I too have joined the texting revolution. The convenience of being able to send a quick “Dood! How’s it going?” to my brothers in Ontario and Vancouver, or a “What time did we want to meet at?” to my friends has kept me on time, and in touch, especially throughout my travels. But along side evolving our technologies, we have devolved our communication skills.

When I receive a text, my thoughts expand; as there is so much I want to tell you. So much I want to share! But once I start composing an SMS message, I can feel my ideas shrinking. Grammar and punctuation gets thrown out the window – getting compressed so I can fit my thoughts into just 140 characters. Granted, I am the kind of person to use the word “negligible” or “gargantuan” on a regular basis, but every time I run out of space, I watch as I bastardize my own ideas.

So much of what we say is not in what we say, but in how we say it. I enjoy meeting people, and do so often. I am very dependent on body language to tell me when to “come say hello” or when to “back off”. Also, to tell when someone’s actually engaged in the conversation, or if I’m just wasting their time. With the anonymity granted via electronic messaging, I have no means to read a person, only the words they send. Written word is not an art given to everyone, and as such not everyone can convey an emotion with words – especially with such a limited space to do so in.

I made the choice to ask someone out through a text a few weeks ago. Effective, yes, but nowhere near as meaningful as saying “I like you, want to go get coffee/tea/beer with me?” face to face. I’d much rather hear someone say yes, then read it from the tiny screen of my cellular phone.

The part of texting that pulls at my heart even more, though I tell myself not to care so much, is when people don’t respond. I understand that I am quirky, sometimes a bit obsessive. I’m working on the obsessive part. However, the waiting – the not knowing – tears me apart. I know you are “just busy”, or that you “can’t answer right now”, but it is just not cool to leave a person hanging. It throws any reading of a person I can do into overdrive, finding the words case scenario, and planting it in my mind, a silent tormenter of truth or fallacy.

I understand that texting is not a conversation. At least not in the truest of form. It is communication, but it takes away from the experience. The thrill of someone getting excited over a topic is diminished when the only way you can express it is by sending far too many exclamation points. The disappointment of a situation cannot be accurately conveyed by a sideways frowny face. No, a conversation is much more than just words. It is an interaction between people, a shared experience. There are people who have typed more words to me than they have spoken, and as such do not actually know “me”. I would like you to know me. Not my writing.

If what you have to say is worth more than the 15 cents that a text message costs, I urge you to spend the time and/or money to say it right. Sometimes, all it takes is a cup of coffee.