Make lemonade, just make sure there is vodka involved. That is how I am going to view everything that transpired this weekend between myself and the bearded man.
We were supposed to go out on Friday night – I had texted him on July 3rd when I came up with a fun date for us to go on. A picnic by the river followed by a production of King Lear at the Peck Pavilion. That’s a great date, right? Right – no one better disagree with me on this one!
After he read a text from me (text message read receipts are the bane of my existence) on July 4th and never responded, I thought I would just wait and see what happened. After all, I was the one who initiated all communication (except for one text). And nothing. Could I have reached out to him, yes I could have. I chose not to because I don’t always want to be the one chasing after someone. There is a fine line between interest and looking pitiful. Plus I am of the mind that if someone is actually interested, they will remain in contact.
As the day progressed, my hope of going out on a date lessened. Good thing I packed my gym bag (can anyone say revenge body?). And after the gym, I ended up going out on a date with two friends and having a grand ol’ time.
At about 9:30 on Friday night, I decided that I had enough of the silence coming from the bearded man.
“Wish you were here” – that’s all he had to say? I was so angry when he sent me that picture that the only response I wanted to send was the ever so graceful middle finger emoji, but I held a firm grasp on my dignity and did not. I waited until Saturday morning to respond. And tried to enjoy my date night with friends (we tried the new brewery, Vennture. I recommend checking it out!)
It took him 12 hours to read and respond to my text. His answers gave me everything that I need to know which is that he isn’t that interested; and his “wish you were here” from Friday night was a big pile crap that he fed to me. I completely understand wanting to celebrate your friend being in remission. That is a huge deal! What I don’t understand is the lack of effort to get in touch with me, to invite me to the party or to reschedule the date.
I took the night to figure out what I wanted to do; and after little sleep, I woke up on Sunday and decided to bid the bearded man adieu. This was not a decision that I came to lightly. I really liked the bearded man, evidently more than he liked me. He read the text, but did not respond. Deep down, I wasn’t expecting him to respond, but I was hurt that he didn’t. It just solidifies that he wasn’t that interested to try and see if he could remedy the situation.
Yes, I know I could have cut him some slack; and there may have been a few instances in which I would have done that: 1. He could have said that he was going to invite me to the party; 2. He could have asked if I were free on Saturday night and rescheduled our date; or 3. He could have actually given me a sincere apology. And he did none of those things.
So I will sit back, drink my vodka lemonade and realize that although life may be a little tart right now, the sweetness will eventually come.