It’s true, after a date like that, I wanted to do it again, right away or almost…
I share everything, because, underneath my heartless hunting looks, yes, sometimes I flinch. And maybe writing down my mistakes will make me grow up, reading them again!
And that’s obviously where it gets complicated. Because when you want someone… you make rookie mistakes.
Anyway, the day after my date with Tom, I write him a little text. It takes him hours to answer me, ok, he works, but I have to say that my eyes often scroll mechanically through my mobile phone in search of the text message. His text is nice and friendly, but nothing more…
Too many texts
And then I get excited… I answer two texts, one of which is waiting for a reply. The answer’s not coming…
Ugh, maybe it’s been too long since I’ve had a little post-date crush. So I’m hanging on to it.
I feel a little nauseous in the morning when I see he hasn’t deigned to answer.
I try everything for everything, I send one back looking like nothing.
I’m not doing anything tonight, so if by any chance he could answer and… Let’s get back to work this Saturday night…
He answers two hours later. I’m getting my hopes up.
I’m not sure of my English, I answer a good hour later… I slip a picture of my legs, just to remind him that tonight if he feels like it…
Anyway, I regain hope, I tell myself that I’ve stretched out the pole, that he only has to catch it to come and catch me.
He answers quickly. My hope inflates like a helium balloon.
It takes me a long time to see his answer, so I answer again, not going in a big way this time.
As the answer is late, I feel like a pie, I read myself again, I get angry at myself, I curse my bad English. Anyway, anyway. I’m busting my hump for not much.
He answers again, not available, he has “sport”. And I have the impression that he’s blowing me away in fashion, well, you seem to be having a good time too! See you under the bus!
I’m torn between finding him sexy and boring. If only there was something I could do today to keep my thoughts from going under the sheets with him.
Anyway, this will be his last message, the last message I’ve answered too much. Follow me, I’m running away from you… Oops, I scared him away!
Here I am making a fool of myself, for the first time by proposing to him to take his time to see me, as if his time was more precious than mine. Being at his disposal, like a little gourd, is not going to make me sexy.
No news yesterday. Last night I go to bed angry, alone and a little depressed. I don’t know what I expected from a moustache guy, but not to spend the evening alone falling asleep at 9pm!
Anyway, last boom this morning, last text from me.
Number deleted, I’m not in Australia to humiliate myself.
So it is with regret… that I say… Farewell, Tom!