As you may have read in this morning's entry, I left my phone number with a gentleman I had been in touch with through a dating site. He did text me this afternoon, and we - eventually, after being interrupted by my male friend from work (and admitting it! D'oh!), and him on the phone with his parents (so he said), and all the other distractions went away - have a nice little texting chat. Around 9, even though we'd started chatting at 4ish. I'm not sure I'll hear from him again, but it was a nice chat, nonetheless.
Earlier this week, I came to the conclusion that I have no idea what I'm doing when it comes to dating. Five minutes after I realized that, a second truth hit me. No one has any idea what they're doing when it comes to dating. This was comforting. For about, oh, 20 seconds. The fact that there are no actual rules (other than a douchebag book that everyone makes fun of) allows me to justify absolutely any craziness I want.
I've never been a stalker, by any means. Quite the opposite. One of my most serious relationships ended with him breaking up with me over the phone (the phone! After a year and a half!). I admit I took a bit of times afterwards trying to convince him to get back together (week 1), then trying to understand why (week 2*), and then finally the don't-touch-me-I'm-just-here-for-my-espresso-machine (week 3. Or maybe four. I was really sad when I realized I'd left the espresso machine at his place**.) Now, despite the fact that the dumping occurred over the phone, this guy was a great guy. He was friends with his exes.
Homey don't play dat.
I cannot be friends with my exes. Even when I'm the one who initiated the breakup (which, embarrassingly is usually the case), it just hurts too much to be like "ah, one of us would rather be alone than naked together anymore. Yes, we should totally get a pizza/coffee/thumbscrews."
As for justifying the craziness, I sent that guy my phone number, and he did text me. But that's my last move, until he makes a couple. I needed to just make it abundantly clear that I was interested, otherwise, I couldn't have just left it alone wondering if he's shy*** or some other bullshit. Now that I've made my move, I can leave it alone.
*Week 2 was also characterized by statements like "Over the phone? Really, asshole?!"
**Part of what we'd originally bonded over was our love of a good strong cup of coffee. In the later months of our relationship, he'd given up coffee altogether to become this healthy machine. Quite frankly, he looked awesome physically, but there became very few things we did together. This, coupled with a major downswing in my mood and looming college graduation (I would have wanted the opportunity to move anywhere in Ontario. I ended up staying in the same city, but that's just luck of the draw), made the death of the relationship inevitable.
***All the dating advice says that if he's interested, he'll let you know without a doubt. My brother and father have told me this is not true; men can be just plain shy. These are two men whose opinions I trust.