“…This whole rubber band theory that is played out in the beginning of relationships? Well, it sucks, guys. When a guy disappears and barely calls, it takes all those wonderful moments you’ve shared and puts them in the BIG question box. Understand- we know you want to keep part of your independence and are probably feeling a bit scared, possibly don’t know if you want to jump into something that can hurt you, most likely you aren’t ‘in touch’ with your feelings or don’t like sharing them because guys generally aren’t touchy-feely like that.
But you hurt others when you pull these disappearing acts- particularly the woman you’ve been seeing. Sometimes her neighbors and friends, if you’ve done your job…
Also, if you keep disappearing and reappearing, you may just break that darned rubber band.“
This is my current status message on Facebook. This summer has been one of the most confusing since I have begun dating. It has also been one of the most love-filled. I suppose that is why I haven’t thrown in the towel thus far. But come on. I have spent way more time alone, wondering what the hell is going on, than with him. Sure, those times are awesome, fill me with such wonder for the way of the world and I wouldn’t go back and change them. Like I have said previously, I would rather love and lose than never love at all. But these disappearing acts? They’re getting old.
This time, he has not done so without a reason, and for that, I am happy. But he could call. If he cared, you would think he would. But he doesn’t always do so. It is as if he truly holds a repugnance for the telephone and all its ways. I finally caved and called him after not hearing from him (with the exception of two text messages, one oddly worded) and he did answer. But he ought to call me. I’m not super old-fashioned. But that should be a given. It’s already known to me that men like to be the initiators. So when he doesn’t call, I feel pathetic initiating. I’m not going to do it again.
I understand why he can’t come to see me. But like I said, he could call if he cared. If he’s feeling that worried, scared or whatever and wants to, as he calls it, ‘run away,’ then do it, but at least have the class to tell me so I am not wondering what the heck happened. Particularly when the last time we were together, everything seemed fine, in fact, you were more affectionate than usual, caressing my face, speaking of love, saying how much you ‘like’ me- I could see love in your eyes. Tell me you just turn it off. If so, tell me how you do it because I’d really like to do that right about now.
For my poetry enthusiasts, sorry I have not been posting poems, I’ve been in a place of some inner turmoil, but not quite ready to explore it yet. I did write this today, however:
Leapt across time
Braved a few storms
Protested, rejected, loved, hurt
Loved, oh yes, in many forms
You, oh yes you, mine?
We said hello, goodbye
Miss you, majestically grand, lofty dreams
Now I sit alone & Sigh
Slow song feelin sad staring high
Why you never call?
Disappear, reappear, love me more
Tell me what
What you got in store
I see you and I forget
The Hurt from before