By Alexandra Ornes
After the obligatory mourning period, I think I’m finally ready to share my feelings with the world. I miss Trump’s Twitter more than my ex.
Every day I would wake up and hope to have gotten a sweet good morning text from my ex when I knew nothing would be there. Instead, a slew of 3am Trump tweet’s greeted me, showing me someone cares. It was like a special good morning text, just for me… except it was usually sexist, or racist, or xenophobic… a little bit like my ex.
My ex never made me laugh. Never made me feel loved, wanted, appreciated. When I scrolled through Trump’s Twitter, it’s like he was speaking to me, personally touching my heart, and my chest, and my ass nonconsensually. It made me feel like I was in the room with him, on a romantic evening which would end in me texting my best friend to call me about a fake emergency. I never reached that level of intense intimacy with my ex. Or any intimacy at all!
I know I shouldn’t want him back, but on some level I do… I miss him, and I wish I had appreciated him more while he was around. Trump’s Twitter, I mean.