I remember when I first started to get fed up with text messages from men. As a writer, I love witty banter, but when it comes to men, I don’t prefer Texters. It was last year at this time, and I was seeing this guy Alex.

In the beginning, Alex called. He checked in. He related vocally. He had a nice voice, too, and it was always lovely to hear him speak and listen to his voicemails. He only texted when he had a quick thing to share.

But after a while, invitations to hang out started to come in the form of text messages. Suddenly, I felt like the balls were always in my court, and I always felt shaky. Soon, I realized the real message: I AM UNAVAILABLE.

When a man starts to text, rather than call, I typically know something is up, especially if the man wasn’t always a Texter and if we seem to have drifted apart.

According to my friend Joel, 29, the text “…is a way of putting something out there, seeing how she will respond.” Joel was texting his pseudo-girlfriend to see if she wanted to pick up Chinese food for them later. In this case, the glory of the text is that if she was not happy with the request, she wouldn’t have to respond. Bring on the passive-aggressiveness.

Speaking is what makes us often feel the closest to someone, but with the advent of the textual option, we opt more and more to avoid a real-time connection or a real-time rejection. Perhaps texting is a crutch for those who are already shy or ambivalent.

“My thought is when there is texting in a relationship, it is over. If they can’t take the time to speak, then the person is clearly not that important,” said Jarry, 29.

The crime is not the actual texting but rather, how the textee feels upon receipt.

“The person doesn’t have to respond in real time,” said Carl, 28. “There’s a comfort in that. But it is also avoidance in a way and a way to avoid social mistakes.”

With Alex, the exclusively textual relations began innocently enough. Since he was a filmmaker in an MFA program, he was often shooting, and if we wanted to communicate, texting was always convenient and fun.

“Hey You, On a shoot.”

“Oh, hey, Mr. Gaffer, I hear you shoot a lot.”

“Just name a target and I’ll shoot one over.”

“The target is a wildlife of rare breed on 24th street.”

“I’ll bring over my stiff c-stand and ride her into submission…”

Youza! Sure, texting is fun. But it can also just feel like a tease that pulls the plug at the last minute; it is all just a textual fantasy. Texting also provides an apt avenue for people who are all about the chase or afraid to activate a connection. The fact is that, after a while, I felt like there was something lost between me and Alex: an insecurity had developed. Would this become something or reach a breaking point?

After a few months, the relationship fizzled and became a mostly textual struggle to arrange when we were going to see one another. I recall the absolute last text conversation I had with Alex. I had not seen him in person for two weeks.

“Happy 4th…”

Elipses are always a way of saying respond if you want. I responded, “ hi, I was just thinking of you.” The conversation ensued far too long. I even went outside for a walk as we texted. This was my relationship? No. I finally asked myself: why are we texting when I value talking? The answer: because I was settling for less.

“Talk rather than text?” I texted.

“In the library. Can’t.”

That was it. At the library on the Fourth of July? I’m a workaholic too. But the bottom line is that someone can leave the library for five minutes to talk on the phone. Dragging out an hour-long text session was a waste of my time and only showed me I was clearly not on this man’s priority list. I might as well have been a video game he was playing between his page turning or web searching. Ladies and gentleman, I am worth a phone call.