The Pinterest Trap
So my guy’s been working overseas for 3 months, right? Everyone keeps telling me “communication is key,” so I Googled “long distance text ideas.” Pinterest hits me with this garbage like:
- “Send good morning sun emojis daily!” — He wakes up to typhoon warnings, Karen.
- “Schedule virtual dinner dates!” — Bro’s Wi-Fi cuts out when his neighbor microwaves noodles.
- “Surprise handwritten letters!” — I mailed one letter. Took 6 weeks. Cost $8 to ship. He thought it was a tax bill.
Felt like dumping my phone in the toilet. These “tips” are written by people whose longest separation was waiting for their Starbucks order.
Drunk Typing at Midnight
Last Thursday I drank half a bottle of cheap pinot grigio after work. I got drunk. Like, accidentally-texted-my-ex-level drunk. Opened my notes app and just vomited my thoughts:
- How I burned oatmeal AGAIN
- That his shirt smells like airport gasoline now
- How the barista smirked when I ordered his usual coffee
No filter. No “meaningful quotes.” Just raw crap about stubbing my toe on the bed frame. Sent it at 3AM. Passed out cold.
The Panic Wake-Up
Woke up at 7AM with death-level hangxiety. Grabbed my phone shaking. Thought I’d ruined everything. Found his reply:
“THANK GOD YOU SAID THAT. I FUCKING HATE ZOOM DATES TOO. Also: my hotel shower head only dribbles. Feels like getting spit on by a pigeon.”
Turns out he’d been saving “inspirational sunset pics” in a folder titled “Fake Happy Stuff.” Our entire relationship had become a museum of polite lies.
The Brutal Love Letter Experiment
That wine-fueled rant became Draft Zero. Sat down with coffee and real talk:
- Stomped on the delete key — Killed every “I miss you like moon misses sun” cliché
- Wrote the ugly truths — Mold in my shower grout, how his timezone sucks, how sex dreams suck because waking up alone hurts
- Booked a physical letter — Handwriting forced me to stop editing the pain out
Shoved it in a legit pink envelope. Too scared to click send. Left it on my kitchen table for 3 days like a guilty secret.
Worst Part? It Actually Worked
He got the letter yesterday. Called me sobbing. Not because it was “beautiful.” Because I mentioned his mom’s weird meatloaf recipe he secretly hates. We laughed until our stomachs hurt for the first time in months.
So yeah. Screw morning sun emojis. Show them your messy countertop coffee stains and cracked phone screen. That moldy shower grout? That’s romance.
Now if you’ll excuse me… gonna go stare at an unsent text about my hemorrhoid cream. Long distance is ✨magical✨.
