Saturday November 8, 2009
1:17 p.m.
Bryant Park, New York City
He did text me back. But not until the next morning. And by then, text or no text, I got the message.
He said that his lip was ok, but the Phils were not.
Knowing it was over, I ended the exchange. “Onto the next…Go Eagles!”
I can’t continue to dwell on Ben because I am going to drive myself crazy. We don’t even live in the same city! I’m a New Yorker now, so it would never work anyway. Maybe our romance isn’t quite over. But the plot is definitely not thickening.
And what about my other man?—How can I say “my other” when I feel like I don’t actually have either?
Summer is over, and Mr. Brooklyn is back to becoming a Master of Urban Planning for the city he loves so much. He has class most nights. And a lot of homework.
I know he likes me. I know, because he told me so on our last date. He was being defensive. But, to be fair, so was I.
I said I was annoyed that he’s practically disappeared.
He heard, “I’m insecure about our relationship.”
I said, “I’m not insecure. You like me. I know you do. The problem is that you have so many things on your priority list that come before me, that sometimes it’s hard to believe it.”
He said, “But everything is good. We are good.”
I said, “Let’s talk about something else!”
And we did, for a while. Defenses down, we finished our beers and walked back to his place. We were in bed, getting tired but still enjoying each other’s company, when I brought it up again.
He said, “I don’t know what to say, Charlotte.” I didn’t know what to say either.
When I didn’t say anything, he climbed on top of the covers and spun around to face me directly.
He said, “You know that I do care about you, right? And that I am sorry.”
I looked up to meet Mr. Brooklyn’s big, round, blue eyes and said, “I do.”
“Do you?” He said, still holding eye contact.
“I do.”
“Do you?” He said, raising his eyebrows to show that he’s serious but also silly.
“I do.”
“Good,” he said, without blinking.
And these are the kinds of things he says and does when we are together. But when we are not together, well, that’s a different story.—That story goes like this: He doesn’t text or call and we go weeks without seeing each other.
So, of course, after that night together, he went back to doing whatever he does, and now I haven’t heard from him in an annoying amount of time.
I want to believe him. I do believe him. But I also feel like it’s not enough.
I am trying to ignore that feeling.