For Ellen Schiller’s chain of three, the ending was a little more accidental. “We were all constantly texting at the beginning of the epidemic, and it was very dark and fun,” Cue said. Schiller, a 50-year-old fiber artist in Salem, Mass., Until two other members of the group decided to start a college consulting business last spring. Sitting alone on her sewing machine, Ms. Schiller paused whenever she was tempted to share the observation with her friends. They sit next to each other and pull her out of the loop at the thought of reading their misses in each other’s company.
“They’re like a married couple now,” she said. “I don’t bother them, but I really missed what we had.”
Elena Mehlman, a 25-year-old graphic designer, said her band of five women traded gossip and jokes and dreamed of a nonstop gateway. The matter then became tense. The situation worsened when one member decided to move out of the shared apartment with another member. “It totally calmed down,” Kue said. Mehlman, who now works at Down Low, interacts privately with individuals in a passive group.
“It’s frustrating,” she said. “I always wanted to have a bunch of girls. But Kovid had other plans for us. “
Alex Levy, a yoga teacher and DJ who lives in Sacramento, is a member of many group chats, including one made up of several hundred friends at Burning Man. But after a while, he said, the chains of text “seem to fall off and disappear.”
“These things take natural progress,” Mr. Levy, 28, said. “People start living their own lives and go their own way.” Seemingly discreet and calm as JD, he said a group chat that has not yet lost its luster in the epidemic would be unnatural. “It’s rare for any group to sustain itself after two years for chat,” he said.