Women’s Conversation Just a String of Apologies for Being Terrible at Communication

After years of maintaining some semblance of a friendship, the relationship between Jen Manfre and Maria Jones is now just a slew of apologies for “sucking at communication” followed by long gaps of silence.

 

“Wow wow wow, I can’t believe how long it’s been. I suck,” Manfre wrote on November 2nd, 2016. “Don’t even worry about it, I’m sorry it took so long for me to respond. I totally suck,” read Jones’s response on December 20th.” Manfre’s “LOL we suck,” sent on January 3rd, 2017, has gone unanswered and apparently unseen, though Manfre has her doubts about that.

 

Jones and Manfre became friends their freshman year of college, where they were roommates for one semester. While they remained close through graduation, their correspondence decreased after Manfre moved to Portland with her husband and Jones stayed in Chicago to continue her journalism career.

 

“We don’t have that much in common anymore,” explains Manfre. “That’s probably why the only thing we can talk about is the actual conversation we are failing to have.”

 

Jones cites her busy schedule as the reason for her abysmal response time. “I hate to admit it, but keeping up with my social life isn’t high on my priority list right now,” she says. “I know, I’m the wooooorst. Like, the woooooooooorst.”

 

 

Manfre, on the other hand, describes herself as a “classic flake.”

 

“I’m actually the worst,” she says. “I’ve never been good at keeping up long distance conversation.” Jones does not remember this being the case when Manfre’s boyfriend broke up with her over spring break sophomore year, but whatever.

 

The two last saw each other in 2014 when Jones had an assignment based in Seattle. Their coffee shop meet-up consisted of 20% gossiping about their former classmates, and 80% apologizing for how long it took to schedule their coffee date.

 

Nowadays, the two women primarily communicate via penitent text message along with the occasional birthday voicemail, which is always four days belated and preceded by, “Oh my god, I can’t believe how late this is!”

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