🕯️ Crow Talk: “He broke my heart... but now he’s texting again. What does it mean?”

✨ Content is free—but crows like snacks.

Dear Loui,

He broke up with me two months ago. Out of nowhere. One week we’re planning a trip, the next he’s “needing space to figure himself out.” I cried. I journaled. I blocked him on everything except text because part of me hoped he’d regret it.

And now... he’s texting.

Little stuff. “Hey, saw something that reminded me of you.”
A reel. A meme. A “How’ve you been?”
Nothing direct. Nothing clear. Just enough to tilt my chest open again.

The worst part? It’s working.
I started doing my makeup again just to check my phone.
I told myself I wouldn’t fall for it, but I keep rereading the texts like there’s a secret message between the lines.
He hasn’t apologized. He hasn’t said he wants me back. But I feel like if I just say the right thing, maybe I’ll get him to realize he made a mistake.

Is this something?
Should I wait?
Does it mean he still cares?

I’m confused. But I still love him.
Please don’t roast me too hard.

—Texting Back Like a Dumb Bitch™

🪶 Loui Crow Responds:
“That’s not love, baby crow. That’s a Hoover. And you’re the dust.”

Oh sweet feathered Jesus.
You’re out here reading half-texts like tarot cards and ignoring the one thing he’s actually communicated clearly:

He left.

And now he’s back—but not with an apology, not with flowers, not with growth.
Nope. He brought you a meme and a “hey.”
That’s not a sign from the universe.
That’s a trap from your trauma.

Let me introduce you to a term, darling: hoovering.
It’s what exes do when their ego gets hungry. They don’t want you.
They want your reaction.
They want proof you’re still orbiting.
They want to crack the door so they can keep a foot in your energy like it’s a damn timeshare they forgot to cancel.

You think this is hope.
It’s not.
It’s emotional breadcrumbing. And you’re out here making a whole meal of it.

Let me lay this out plain:

🩸 If he wanted you, you'd know.
🩸 If he changed, you'd see it.
🩸 If this was love, it wouldn’t come in GIF format.

He doesn’t miss you.
He misses access to you.
To your softness. Your patience. Your little emoji replies that taste like forgiveness.

You say you still love him.
Okay.
Then love him like you’d love a lesson: thank it and walk away.

You are not a lighthouse for men who like to crash and blame the rocks.
You are not a rehab facility for emotionally unavailable man-babies who only text at night when it’s safe to want you.
You are not a second chance in a pretty outfit.

✨ Your Resolution (Do Not Romanticize This):

1. Block him. Yes, for real this time.
   Not for revenge. For peace. Hoovering only works if the door isn’t deadbolted.

2. Name what you actually miss.
   It’s not him. It’s the version of you who believed this meant something.
   Mourn her, not him.

3. Write a goodbye text you’ll never send.
   Then read it like a prayer and delete it like a curse.

4. Do something hot, petty, and productive.
   Unfollow.
   Wear the outfit he never deserved to see.
   Make a playlist called “Blocked But Still Watching.”

5. Start loving yourself like you’ve already met someone who never makes you guess.
   Because that version of you is coming.
   And she doesn’t text back to maybe-boys with lowercase energy.
   

You are not confused.
You are just lonely enough to mistake crumbs for comfort.

Don’t crawl back into the dust bag.
You’re not broken.
You’re just remembering how powerful you were before his name started lighting up your screen.

Now block. Delete. Strut.

He can miss you in silence.

— Loui Crow
Pulling your phone out of the Hoover vortex and slapping it into airplane mode with love.