Him- Day One before our first sexual encounter…
I work Wed-Sat 13 hours a day.
Me, Omg he works so hard it’s so cute.
Him, I can’t have my phone at work either.
Me, Awl they are just so busy over there and he’s in charge, gosh, I love it. Fair, I understand…
Wednesday morning, the first day after the encounter- Me
Hey, have a great day at work, ttyl!
30 seconds pass. I don’t care that I’m sending this message at Five AM…
I’m literally dying until at his lunch break he says
Oh thank you sweetie…it’s crazy here. You have a good one too.
Me, that was vague. That was like, I dunno, it feels like he doesn’t like me anymore…
We don’t speak that evening at all and I’m consumed. I hate my whole life. I count all the ways I should hate him.
Him- Day Two and Three after the encounter…
He texts a wonderful good morning message.
It thrills me until about Two PM each day and I’m terrified. He doesn’t want to see me. He’s just stringing me along. Why is he being so nice so sparingly? This is a trick to get me hooked on him when he feels nothing for me. Why can’t I jump in head first? Why doesn’t he love me already? I masturbate furiously. I flirt with anyone in the vicinity. I get really drunk and hate myself and everything in the entire world. I think about all of my exes and how perfect they were and how fucked up I am and how I scared them away and I’ve done it again. I consider throwing the roses he gave me which are somehow still alive right into the trash and fucking the whole next man I see…
Day Four after the encounter…
I attempt to beat him to the greeting punch and send a wonderful heartfelt but still very general message and include a photograph that it took me hours to pick because I hate the way I look from top to bottom.
No response, the entire day.
I’m panicked. I’m ugly. I’m a loser. I should get over it, back to meditation, back to mindfulness, back to deep breathing, back to accepting my utter and total lonesomeness, realizing I’m broken and not ready and I want to hit him up and tell him I’m crazy but I just get high and jack off and pretend everything I do to me he’s doing to me and telling me how grateful he is and then I leave the fantasy. I guess its over. At least it was fun. At least he was beautiful.
Day Five after the encounter…
He calls.
I wish I was fucking someone else at the moment and unable to answer. I wish I lived in Italy and couldn’t get his calls anymore and then at the same time, relief. At the same time if I would just slow down, maybe I could be loved. At the same time I’m so excited to hear his voice and I hope he wants to see me…
He explains about work the day before and forgetting his charger and visiting family and wonders if I want to hang out today.
Of course I say sure.
And for a second, hope on the tongue soothes.
And for a second, we both have another shot at trying to love me…