i made her read this out loud
before she could touch her phone.
seven texts. she wanted to send every one of them that night. here they are, free. no email.
it was 1:48 a.m. when my phone lit up. not a call. a screenshot.
her draft to him. three paragraphs. it ended with “i'll be up if you want to talk.”
under it she'd written: should i send it. no question mark.
i drove over. she was on the bathroom floor in his hoodie, the one she kept saying she'd give back. mascara everywhere. phone face down on the tiles like it might bite her.
“he used to answer in two minutes,” she said. “two minutes. now it's been nine days.”
i didn't tell her to forget him. she'd heard that from everyone. i took her eyeliner and wrote seven texts on the mirror. the seven she was not allowed to send. she had to read them out loud before she could pick up her phone.
not tonight. not ever.
written on the mirror, 2:05 a.m.
“hey” → too heavy and too vague. it reads as “i'm still waiting.”
“i miss you” → it tells him you're still right there. he can't miss someone who never left.
“can we talk?” → it sounds like a fight is coming. most guys go quiet.
“i've changed” → words don't prove change. time and calm do.
a paragraph → long texts feel like pressure, however kind they are.
anything after 10 pm → a night text says “i'm lonely.” a daytime one says “i'm living my life.”
anything after a drink → if you wouldn't send it sober tomorrow, don't send it tonight.
screenshot this. it's yours.
she read it out loud twice. the second time she started laughing, the ugly kind that's half crying.
“i was going to send three of these. tonight.”
she didn't send any of them.
before you send anything, ask yourself:
is it before 10 p.m.?
am i sober?
would i be okay if he never replied at all?
is this message for him, or is it really for me?
would i still send this tomorrow morning?
if you didn't say yes to every one, don't send it. put the phone in another room. this is the part you control.
here's what nobody tells you.
not sending is only half of it.
around day nine she called me again. calmer this time. and she asked the question every girl asks:
“okay. but what do i actually say when i'm allowed to talk to him again?”
and that depends on why it ended. most breakups are one of these five:
each one needs a different plan. how long to stay quiet. what to work on. what the first text says, and whether there should be one at all.
so i wrote it all down for her.
what's in the guide
“Don't text him yet.” the get him back guide · 45 pages
– the plan for your breakup type, and your honest chances
– a 30-day tracker, one page a day, so you don't break on day 4
– the exact first text, word for word, plus 12 first-text scripts
– what to reply to the texts he's most likely to send
– new girlfriend / blocked you / hot and cold: each has its own chapter
– the red flags that mean “don't try”, and what to do if he says no
a real look inside:
it's a PDF made for your phone, in your email the second you check out. it costs $19.99, about what you'd spend on the takeout you order so you don't text him.
show me what to say · $19.99and if it's not for you, email within 7 days and you get your money back. no questions.
not ready for that yet? that's okay too. get the seven texts as a PDF for your phone, free. type 0 as the price.
is this for you?
xo, your big sister
p.s. there's still a faint line of eyeliner on her mirror. she says she's keeping it.