It Takes Two To Text.
Every time we got together he showed interest, but silence in between forced me to ask myself: was I interested in him enough to send another text?
I’ve hung out with the Music Producer a total of five times now, and considering the Miami dating scene- specifically of the online kind- that seemed significant enough to write a follow up post.
The silence that I previously mentioned in my last post lingered. I had pretty much given up on the prospect of him ever reaching out again as five days passed since I heard from him. Like, WT actual F?!
While my world wasn’t falling apart, I was feeling frustrated, you know? Because at what point in the dating world is it appropriate to give someone a heads up if you, you know… never want to enter their vagina again? A simple, “Hey, you’re great (LIES! But I’ll take em…) but I’m not really feeling it.” Or whatever.
I mean, I messaged someone something like that after a first coffee date, as soon as they asked me out again. It might feel difficult because you don’t want to hurt someone, but in reality it’s a kind way to set someone’s expectation and allow the human to move on swiftly.
So I was all agitated and wondering in which way I had managed to repel my new fling- who I wasn’t even that invested in anyway- but still I wanted to know, because I do have an ego, after all.
I sent him a text that said, “Were my videos that excruciating??? (LOL emoji, sobbing emoji, peace sign emoji)” I was referencing some short films I acted in, which I finally had the courage to share after he shared, like, a dozen songs he had produced.
I thought my text was the perfect mixture of humor, wtf, and acceptance of a goodbye all rolled into a simple sentence and three crucial emoji’s.
But then that Mofo wrote me back all laughing, like “oh my god no!” and then went on about how he meant to reach out and was so busy and bla bla blippity bla.
So we schedule a day to hang out when his manager, who he was staying with, is out of town and I drive 35 minutes away to hang out, to presumably have a sleepover, and cuddle and do cute shit like that.
When I arrived, I could tell how spent he was when I walked into his cave room, where the curtains were drawn and Breaking Bad was playing on his lap top. It was about 3:30 in the afternoon. We hadn’t seen each other in awhile, got to the fun stuff right away- I made him come and then he promptly made me come- then we grabbed some dinner to-go and returned to the pad.
It’s around this time my concerns came to surface. He got called into the studio, and even though he had previously invited me to come check out this studio, I did not get an invitation for this specific instance. He was ditching me, leaving me to hit the road prematurely.
I took a deep breath- I could see in his eyes that he was barely hanging on, and just trying to do the right thing for him. Still, I knew I had to bring it up, so I asked him about it. I told him it’s hard to gauge his interest based on his actions, which launched him into a long-winded explanation about the chaotic but exciting nature of where he was at in his career.
As an ambitious creative myself, I understood where he was coming from and where his priorities were. That didn’t bother me… but rather than letting me know his feelings towards me, the conversation turned into yet another brag sesh about him and his music.
I left, listened to my favorite Beach Boys songs on my drive home, and happily climbed into bed early while I drafted different versions of the text I was going to send him.
Here’s what I settled on:
TWO DAYS LATER this was his response.
Then, my immediate response:
All things considered, I thought the exchange went pretty well!
Then, silence.
Wait, did he say he DID or DID NOT want to keep hanging out? Wait, did I completely misinterpret his last message? Wait, is he, like, totally gone?
Then, reappearing.
Ten days later, all hope was lost. I figured, if I haven’t heard from him in ten days, I’m never going to hear from him. I had already deleted our text message chain, thus erasing his unsaved contact from my phone. BUT, I did have screenshots of our previous text exchanges, and I was day drinking by myself and so yeah. I texted him. Whatever. Don’t look at me like that.
I just said, “hi,” (I know, I know. So stupid.) And, just like the first time, he launched into an array of positive texts, summing up the past ten days. He asked how I was. He asked me to, well, first take a trip with him to The Keys, and then more simply inviting me to hang out the following evening.
It was like the 10-day streak of silence didn’t happen. When we got together he was much more settled and calm. He had set some boundaries work-wise at the studio. It seemed like he was gaining back some balance in his life.
He told me he woke up in a great mood that day. Well, so had I and I wondered how much our reconnecting played a role in our days. He mentioned he was unmotivated that day, but his excitement in seeing me led him to finish work quickly. We laid in bed. He turned to me and said how much better it was to be with me than to be anywhere else. Then we had more orgasms! YAY!
And then we had orgasms for breakfast! YAY again!
He left Tuesday morning and it’s now Thursday and you’ll never even guess what! I haven’t heard from him. (Bet you didn’t see that one coming.)
Our short history proved I was the only one of the two of us who cared, or had the time, to reach out. Otherwise, it seems inevitable that another ten days will go by without a word.
We messaged back and forth, probably initiated by me, for a week or two after that. He was leaving town for a bit. He suggested that when he came back, his living situation would be different. The assumption was that maybe other things would also be different.
The last text sent was him saying “… I’ll keep in touch.”
He did not.
The odd thing is, regardless of this weird ass exchange we have going, I’m still not overly smitten by him. I don’t have that chemical desperation that I’ve felt for others in the past. Yet, I felt a small need to hang on… to explore whether there was possibility there for growth.
Finally I’ve come to the conclusion that whatever desire I have for him, it’s simply not enough to send the next text.
