Imaginary Mail

Dear Boy-that-I-like:

What the hell is your problem? Seriously? Why is it that you have to live so far away? What's so freaking great about New York, anyway? You can *so* get all that shit in Chicago.

You know, nobody asked you to come to that stupid party*. I didn't particularly need to meet someone that night. It's not *my* fault we were the only two single people there, or that we happened to hit it off. It's not like I meant for it to happen...

But you know, it's not only my fault. Plenty of this is your fault. You're smart. You're funny. You have a successful career. You're financially responsible. You're reasonably mature. You have a crooked smile that crinkles up your eyes. No self-respecting girl is immune to that shit.

So, there you have it. You made me like you. And now that I like you, you decide to be emotionally unavailable? I recognize the fact that you're enjoying your extended "adolescence," this easy time of no responsibility, easy money, and good times. And you have a right to it - you've gone through some shit in your day. You deserve a chance to relax and enjoy yourself.

But you should not have led me on like this. Knowing, as you know, that I've just come out of a long, difficult relationship, that I'm in an emotionally vulnerable place right now, that I like you - you could have just as easily passed, said "no thanks." You could have moved on, not called, not texted, not emailed. You didn't have to engage in this...flirtation. But you did. And in doing so, you let me feel false hope. Hope that you might like me. Hope that we might be more than just good friends who sleep together. Hope that this might lead... I have no idea where. It didn't particularly matter.

So now, now that we've entered this murky gray area, I have no idea how to proceed. I'm not used to indifference. It drives me crazy. I don't handle it very well. I can understand that I'm scary. I have kids. I have a past. I live in another time zone. All very good reasons to brush me off. But you didn't, haven't, yet, and I'm in fucking limbo over here.

Please. I am begging you. Just do something, already. Show some interest. Ditch me. At this point, I don't even care which. Anything to end this pointless stagnation. I am trying so hard to hold my ground here, not to push, not to pursue, but my willpower is slipping. I'm so tempted to call you, to email you. I won't be able to hold off much longer... Please don't make me make an ass of myself. Ditch me now and save me the trouble of caring. At this point, I'd rather escape with my self-respect intact than find romance right now.

Although, for all your shortcomings, you really are a great guy... call me?

Jane


*Except for the person who invited you, of course.