One time this happened...

Glancing down at my palms, I noticed that last night's pizza sauce stains were now expertly paired with my morning coffee rings, like two old friends embracing on my hands. This is why I always swipe right on "no makeup selfies" for solo nights at home.

It was as I sat on the bus that I noticed my thumbs hovered involuntarily above the cracked screen of my mother's old flip phone. We'd had the conversation - or at least a heated monologue - about the futility of paying full price for a smartphone and, by extension, all its attendant costs.

I've been 'unfriending' my way through life, deleting each social media account a new failed relationship's equivalent of ripping a Band-Aid off, except my hands aren't shaking because I have a history of poor coping mechanisms.

My thumbs have permanently memorized the shape of my keyboard from years of late-night Instagram binges and hasty apologies sent to my ex. I'm pretty sure 'I'm sry' has become an autotext at this point.

The autocorrect on my phone insists on spelling 'taco' as 'taxo', but my aunt still hasn't returned my call from three hours ago after I accidentally sent that very message instead of a casual hello. I have no idea how I managed to accidentally send a 10 AM 'good tacos taxo today?' to all 57 people in my contacts list.

Sometimes it's the typos that feel like a betrayal. Just now, I sent my crush a sloppy 'w8n for u'.