Tony and I had made tentative plans for him to join me at a friends art gallery where there was an artist opening. But I knew it was unlikely given what he had said the day before.
It was okay, although it would have been nice for him to join me. I had seen him that morning for coffee and a kiss. I was going to go to the show either way. I am getting better about going ahead and making plans that work for me, and if he can fit it, great.
I rushed home from work to get changed. Unable to get a taxi, I ended up driving. Tony sent me a text saying he wasn’t feeling well – stressed and tired – and wasn’t going to join me. We texted back and forth a bit while I was on my way (for what it’s worth, only at stop lights).
I was having a great time. Tony later sent a text saying he was feeling better.
And in hindsight I realize that’s when my mental trouble started: I presumed it meant I would perhaps see him later.
I wasn’t tied to my phone or sending tons of texts. I was happily meeting artistic types, pondering which piece to buy, and making potential new friends.
I met someone who happened to know Tony as he worked on a job with him the week before. Which was a small world moment; I texted Tony to tell him the coincidence.
I sent him a text just before 10pm to ask him if his feeling better meant I might see him that night. I figured if he was napping before he might be up by then. In hindsight I should have just waited for him to contact me; he always does eventually.
I went for drinks and snacks with my girlfriend after her gallery closed.
I drove her home; it was close to midnight and I thought perhaps I’d try once more. I figured he was asleep but I was less than 10 minutes from his place. I sent one more text saying I was close and was he asleep (which yes, I recognize is a ridiculous question).
It didn’t help that my girlfriend is at the tail end of an affair and her guy isn’t in contact at the moment. She was angry and ranting at the bar and in the car; questioning why it’s always women who have to reduce their expectations and change their behaviors to accommodate men.
While I was sure he would be asleep at midnight, it had been 5 hours since his last text.
I was peeved.
I figured there was no way he could have been sleeping the whole time. I felt like he had ignored me. Or at least not been courteous. And I was fighting the feeling of disappointment the whole time; I did not want to go down the same path I’d been with him before.
I slept for 9 hours straight. It was bliss.
I checked my phone at and 8am there was a text from him: “Just surfacing now.”
That was it. No answers to my prior questions, no apology for not responding, no question about how the show was, no question about who I’d met that also knew him, nothing.
I responded: “Were you sleeping? I just slept 9 hours straight.”
He said “Yup, I had you beat, just got coffee and a quiche. Settling in for soccer.”
I debated what to say. I was peeved but also quite aware he was in obvious hermit mode. I was frustrated he didn’t come see me that morning when he had the time. I was hurt by feeling ignored and by his seeming disinterest in what was happening to me.
On the other hand, I knew he wasn’t lying. I knew he was needing some quiet – which is fine – and I’d gotten my expectations up when I should have just known he would need silence.
But I was hurt, rightfully or wrongly. I wasn’t going to make some big issue about it but also wanted to let him know, in my own way. It was okay to not see him; I just don’t like being ignored.
So I said: “Didya see all my texts last night? I’m hoping you say no ’cause otherwise you would have responded of course :/ But moving on…figured the randomness of Bill was pretty wild, no? I have a pic.”
He said:”Hey, saw them this morning not last night”.
I waited 90 minutes. Not because I was game playing but because I was hurt there was still no interaction and didn’t want to write out of peevishness.
I also knew I had to get my head on right. He wasn’t out with someone else. He had said he wasn’t feeling well. I was perfectly fine on my own the night before and had a great nights sleep. He wasn’t being malicious or playing a game. He was watching sports and relaxing and not on his phone.
This was not a big deal and I didn’t need to put my shit onto him.
So I said: “well I guess I will chalk no response up to a combination of disinterest and hermit mode. Let me know when you’re out of the latter. Hope you have a great day”. And yes, it was slightly peevish. I know this to be true.
He said: “I’d chalk it up to an Everton Bournemouth 3-3 draw. What a game. Just laying low. Talk soon.”
I told him I didn’t think sports was better and he reminded me it was just one (or two) days a week.
By this time I was fully focussed on Liam. I had reset my head. My art gallery friend reminded me he – unlike the man she’s having an affair with – is not a player.
So I buried what remained of my mental hatchet and texted him: “you’re lucky you’re cute and funny. Can I see you tomorrow evening / night?”
We made plans for the following night. Which ended up involving multiple vehicles, my hair clippers, and a very thankful Tony.
Next post coming soon