tylinec
I was sitting one night on the bank of a river in Budapest, drawing the city with my unexpert hand. It was my first time away from home on my own, wandering towards Central and Eastern Europe with no set destination. It had started off well, spending two or three days in each city with people I'd befriended on the internet, but I'd fallen on hard times and was sleeping rough. Later that night, two thugs attempted to attack me with a broken whisky bottle. I ran as quickly as my legs could take me, with them in hot pursuit. A kindly stranger gave me enough forints for a hostel room for a few days. A few days later I was home, and the whole month seemed like a dream.
The texting was part of what ruined the relationship for me. February 14th, romantic dinner, pulling out all the stops even though I had the princely sum of minus 2,000 in my bank account. All evening, my companion was glued to the phone, a friend having found it an appropriate time to begin a conversation. One is never truly alone with a texter, and that is something that I can't abide.