Opened the chat. Lost my peace.

I opened the chat for a very quick check. The kind of check that, in theory, takes less time than opening the chat. I wanted to look at one thing and get back to my life. My life is now patiently waiting while I decide whether a full stop is punctuation or a diplomatic statement.

Because “fine” is fine until it becomes “fine.” That full stop has a tone. It has folded arms. I think it has also closed a door, but without the complete conversation I would rather not make a formal accusation.

One message, seventeen interpretations

The first reading is normal: you read the words. On the second, you start hearing a voice nobody recorded. On the third, you check the time. On the fourth, you have returned to an older conversation to establish whether this person has ever used a full stop with you before. You have a methodology. All you lack is funding.

Meanwhile the screen goes dark because you are not touching it, just staring at it. You wake it up, offended. This is no time to save power: we are trying to establish whether “we’ll see” means we will see, or is a polite instruction to rebuild your peace somewhere else.

The funny thing is that if a friend sent you the same message, your answer would be perfectly clear. “There is nothing to interpret.” Lovely. Apply that to yourself. Suddenly clarity needs three committees and an extraordinary review.

The screenshot enters the group chat

Sending the screenshot to your friends seems like a simple gesture. In practice, you are convening a board. One replies immediately, one asks what happened before, and one writes “this person again?” with a level of accuracy you were not emotionally equipped to handle.

You asked for an analysis of the message. They are recommending closure of the entire case. You provide context: “Wait, they’re different in person.” It is remarkable how much work that sentence can do. It keeps situations open that would otherwise have returned the keys already.

I do not have a scientific theory about punctuation or reply times. My theory is much smaller: if understanding a sentence requires the entire group chat, perhaps the sentence is asking for more attention than it deserves. And perhaps you are not missing information. You are looking for an interpretation comfortable enough to stay inside.

A small change of soundtrack

Eventually I put down the phone and play a song. It is no miracle treatment. It is simply an activity where the words have at least agreed to keep time. If you want to read about a track that addresses moving on from an ex, there is the Dear future X dump, based on its actual lyrics.

Men, friends and questionable decisions also appear in Raga, ho una teoria, my Italian-language book. For now I am celebrating a much smaller achievement: the phone is on the table, face down. Please do not ask how many seconds it has been there.