Dial 'O' for Over
The Key to a Clean Break? It's DELETE.
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Sunday, March 5, 2006
It all started with the cell phone. They met at a party. He was from Nicaragua. She was half Peruvian. She gave him her cell phone number. He gave her his. They fell in love. Soon, they were engaged. No wedding date. Just a promise.
Then things started to crumble. He went back to Nicaragua for a visit. Two long months, he waited. But she never called his cell phone.
So when he returned to Wheaton, he did what he felt was necessary.
He DELETED her.
No conversation. No Dear Susan letter. No explanation. No angry confrontation that ended in a fit of tears with doors slammed.
Just the push of a couple of buttons.
And just like that, it was over.
She didn't even know that she had been deleted.
"I call it being terminated," the deleter, Mel Gutierriez, 28, says. "When you are upset, you just have to delete them."
Her number was gone and so was she. Because in today's society, cell phone numbers are crucial. They are like people. They live and they die. They breathe in those little cases people carry around with them -- in pockets, in purses, in compartments in the car, attached to belts and pants. Waiting on nightstands.
Holding little secrets like little black books.
Holding desires.
