Dear Modern Day Romeos,

You all slide in my phone around 8 or 9 p.m. Texts full of heart eye emojis and snapchats with little to be imagined. You’re all predictable and reliable, Romeos, I’ll give you that much. Each one of you just want to tell me how beautiful I am, to tell me how amazing I am, to boost my poor, meager, self-esteem. How noble, my sweet Romeos!

But, O Romeos, Romeos wherefore art thou Romeos? Why do you hide behind your screens, Romeos? Will you not come sweep me off my feet? You’re all so eager to tell me how you feel in digital love notes but my physical presences results in silence. All these words disappear in the light of day. I stand here on my balcony waiting for someone, oh Romeos. Why can’t anyone tell me these things in person? Is it my breath, my clothes, my hair? I promise I shower and brush my teeth regularly. I’ve never been known to bite.

Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate all the kind words sent during the night. They make me feel good, of course. Who wouldn’t be flattered? I love how straightforward you all are, but these are starting to feel more like virtual catcalls, Romeos. Lifeless, cold, computerized heckles. These are not compliments. There are no true, brave intentions here, and we all know it.

I don’t know what gave you all this impression, Romeos but I’m not that type of Juliet. I am a Juliet that deserves to be asked out on proper dates of unselfish design. I should be treated with the utmost respect and care. And I’m not saying this just as woman but as a human being. I want to be treated as I treat you all. The first moves have been made, and I applaud you all for that. But if there is no following through don’t expect anything from me. So Romeos, now through your touch screens, you have all lost touch with me.

Love,

Juliet

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