I wonder if it makes him sad that he never hears from me anymore.
I think about the exes I never hear from anymore. How it doesn’t make me sad that I never hear from them anymore. How I never hope they’ll text me, never feel happy when they do, maybe a tickled curiosity but not joy, when they do, how I don’t hope that I hear from them tomorrow, how tapping into that thought just makes me feel nothing at all.
He doesn’t know where I am right now. What I did today. How I’m feeling. And he’s okay with it.
I rejected him twice. He was good looking and fun, but weird and maybe too into himself and a little oblivious to where he was dumb. He let ideas out that’d make me cringe, for example, “Small businesss are the backbone of our economy” because he was proud to work for a sales software company and also because he was a wannabe politician, who put on his profile that he almost ran for local office but later volunteered a complete explanation: he considered and unconsidered a run in one, singular conversation with his dad (but he took that consideration very! seriously). He bragged about his connections to his neighborhood, which were all of a friendly Marina bartender here or there. Eventually, he’d ask me for feedback on his personality.
One day, he let me know that he saw me out at dinner, with friends at a sidewalk table on Chestnut Street. I was two seats away from a boy I had crushed on for months, whose eyes lit up when I sat down, whose eyes were still glowing like embers. Still, I responded to that text and flirted and after a long night out, sent the crush home in an Uber alone.
I saw Marina boy again today. Running along the water. I texted him to flirt. I don’t know why.
Drinks. Sitting. Our legs were touching slightly more than normal, which I guess means “we’re going to fuck” in this adult era
I went on a date. He was remarkably fine, but as he spoke, I just kept picturing his face being sculpted out of play dough or clay, droopy and puffy in some spots, with sharp, knife-defined edges in others
How long would you stay in a relationship with someone you had no intention of staying with forever?
Asking yourself if you are happy is a fast way to assure that you won’t be, a path to overanalysis and doubt. Is asking yourself if you are in love the same?