To Text or Not To Text?
That is the question.
I walked into a beautiful French bistro in Portland, Maine on a Thursday afternoon, and sat down with my friend at the bar to order a Latte and some Fondue. We had just rescued a tourist who had fallen and hurt her ankle while walking in front of us, and we were in a bright and cheery mood. This bistro had become a regular hangout for us because another friend of ours works there. As a result, we had gotten to know the staff pretty well. However, someone new was working the bar that afternoon. That someone would become my summer crush.
The first thing I noticed was that his outfit was color-coordinated and he was rocking a classy red and blue lumbersexual look (I appreciate color-coordination in my outfit choices and get excited when I see other people who also put that kind of thought into their wardrobe). We all talked for a bit, and told him the story of our daring heroics (giving a lady a ride to the hospital). He had a boyish charm, coupled with a touch of grey in his hair that gave him a distinguished quality. He was fun to talk to, and we learned that he spent most of his time in a foreign country as a teacher. In the summer months, he would return home to moonlight as a bartender. This man was kind, funny, and was living the life I had dreamed of for years. I couldn’t help but want to befriend him.
About a week later, we all ended up hanging out on a strange Independence Day adventure, and I got to learn a little bit more about the man. Hanging out with him was easy and fun. Although his jokes sometimes crossed into questionable territory, we had a very compatible sense of humor. Best of all, he was single and seemed to be on the bisexual spectrum. The feels were developing rapidly.
Now, to provide context, the number of times I’ve been attracted to a guy that didn’t turn out to be straight (or a celebrity I had no chance of interacting with) was zero. My track record with women and gender non-binary folx wasn’t any better. If I liked you, there was a high chance that you were completely unavailable to me (something to explore in detail another time). In addition, I hadn’t asked another person out since I was in high school (due to a variety of factors). So, we were in new territory here. Not only did I like this guy, but there was at least a passing chance the interest could be returned (let the anxiety commence).
Now, I was in a strange situation. More than a week had gone by, and I had seen him a handful more times. Every time, we talked, flirted, and just genuinely had pleasant interactions. Every time, it was while he was working. If you’ve ever had a crush on someone who works in customer service you know the struggle. Are they flirting for real, or is this just their customer service persona? I really wanted to find an opportunity to get to know him outside of work, and so I took the plunge and asked him out. To my surprise, he said yes.
Because human interaction in the twenty-first century is weird, it took another week or so for us to actually exchange phone numbers. I sent the first message, but we were having trouble pinning down a good time for us to get together one-on-one. I did invite him to join me and my friends in some late night shenanigans as well. He would always respond to my messages, even if he was declining to join us. This was noteworthy in world where ghosting is the new normal. He was always polite and seemed genuinely interested in continuing to talk. However, over the next couple months, our time to hang out never materialized. I began to realize that I was the only one really making an effort to hangout.
I tend to be an enthusiastic new friend. If I like you, I will try to hang out with you a lot as part of my process of determining if the friendship is a good one or not (patience isn’t my strong suit). Knowing this about myself and knowing that there might be more than just friendship at stake, I made sure to keep my attempts to reach out minimal. After the first week of sending invites two or three times, I made sure to be strategic and only sent him an invitation once a week. He had my contact info, and he knew how to reach me if he was free and wanted to hang out. Stay chill, and don’t push it.
After a couple weeks, I had essentially accepted that he probably wasn’t going to want to follow through on his original “Yes” to hang out, and I’d stopped messaging him. I even stopped visiting the bistro as much, because I didn’t want him to think I was coming in just to see him. (I wasn’t. Their food is excellent, they have awesome drinks, and I’ve not found a place that is better suited to my needs for a good writing environment.)
I was disappointed though because he had piqued my curiosity, and I genuinely felt like we could have been good friends under the right circumstances. I really needed/wanted a new friend who shared my experiences as both a bisexual man and as an educator, and he seemed to have need of a supportive and accepting friend. If anything more developed that would have been a bonus, but the goal was always just to get to know him better. Unfortunately, as time progressed, it seemed that wasn’t going to happen.
I mourned a little. Then, I accepted the fact that I’d only see him in the context of his work and that he would be leaving soon to return to his real-life anyway. It was time to let it go. However, that changed when I discovered that he shared a birthday with our friend and we invited him to join us for a party.
A few nights later, I ended up meeting up with him to chat for a few minutes after he got out of work, and in the context of the conversation he seemed very eager to finally hang out. He suggested the time (the next afternoon) and insisted he would message me so we could meet up. I was surprised but pleased, and I agreed.
The next morning, I went on my usual Saturday run and brunch, where I saw him. As we left, he confirmed that he was going to message me when he got out of work. Several hours after he was supposed to have messaged there had been no word, so we swung back by the bistro to pick up our other friend to hang out instead. When we picked her up, he was still working. Ok. If he ended up staying late that is reasonable. I didn’t bother to check in with him figuring he’d reach out eventually once he was free.
He never messaged.
He didn’t owe me his time or attention, and at this point it was obviously not going to be given. I was confident that I was worth making an effort for, but it was up to him to determine that for himself. I stopped messaging him, again. I also avoided going in on days I knew he’d be around, so I wouldn’t be tempted to try and restart the conversation. I chose to focus my attention elsewhere. If the conversation is one-sided, then it isn’t a conversation it’s a monologue.
A few more weeks passed, and I decided I was craving a crepe. I went into the bistro and I sat at the bar, chatting with my friend, the bar manager. My crush was there busy working as a server. I didn’t go out of my way to engage with him, but after a short while he came up to me and struck up a conversation.
“We still need to do waffles, don’t we?”
My reply was terse but positive. “Yup, we do.”
Our plan was for me to take him out for Chicken and Waffles for his birthday.
He chatted with me about what was going on in my life, and I asked him about his. He indicated that the past two weeks had been rough for him, but said that this week looked better for him. I told him that he had my number and he could message me if he found time, but that I assumed that he’d be busy.
I avoided messaging again until nearly a week later. It was a moment of weakness because I’d been drinking (never a good choice), but it wasn’t anything terrible. I just told him about some awful karaoke experiences which he didn’t reply to until the next morning. When he did reply the exchange was just a brief check-in.
At this past week’s run and brunch, I saw him again. He asked about the full story regarding Karaoke, which we shared, and that was that. There are still several weeks remaining before he leaves the country, but I doubt the situation will change.
In my life, I tend to be the person to reach out first. It’s not a bad thing. However, being that person also generates a level of anxiety that I’m reaching out too much, or too often. I’ve been historically impatient and worried that because I’m a “busy” person, if I don’t let people know I’m available they will assume I’m not. As a result, I struggle to know when it makes sense to reach out, and when it makes sense to wait to be reached out to. I’ve chosen, for now, to let this situation be what it is and to avoid reaching out again.
I’m not upset with him if he doesn’t choose to follow-up on our plans, and I made a good effort on my part to make sure that if things didn’t pan out it wasn’t because I didn’t try. I will be sad about the friendship that never was from time to time, but that is okay. I think, for my own sense of sanity and self-worth, the better choice is to leave the future of our interactions in his hands. I still don’t know if that is the right decision, but I am confident that it’s the best one for me right now.
Thank you for reading my first article. If you liked it, please feel free to share it with your friends and throw a clap or two my way. Feedback is always welcome and encouraged. Follow me for more articles to come on topics like dating, personal growth, the art of writing, bisexuality, and media reviews.
