Monday, August 19, 2013

The Guy who Never Called, or, Expiration Dates

Dear Cute Single Girl,

You probably don't remember me. Or maybe you do? Sigh... I'm that guy who never called. Yeah. I'm the guy who asked for your number, wrote it down, walked away with a smile... and vanished from your life forever. With zero explanation.

You are likely quite annoyed with me. And probably not very keen on hearing from me at all. I mean, we were only acquaintances after all; it might have been the first time we met. Or maybe the second. Maybe you thought I was handsome or funny. Maybe you just gave me your number to get rid of me. And maybe you didn't care particularly one way or the other, but you thought you had nothing to lose and wanted to see what happened.

Whatever the case, you have probably moved on. But please, hear me out.



Well, there was that time that I met you at a dance. We were sixteen. I'd gone on... oh, like four dates in my entire life. Maybe three. You were so cute, and you smiled as you wrote down your number, because I didn't have a cell-phone and wouldn't, for years. I was blissfully infatuated, having not yet become cynical and bitter about the whole dating/romance thing.

And then I got home.

And I'd forgotten your name.

I, uh, just wanna say sorry. For that. Yeah.

And if you can forgive me, I'm also sorry for all the times I lost the piece of paper with your number on it between then and the day I got my cellphone. Sometimes it would be lost forever, and I would never be able to call you. And sometimes I would find the number again... and oh, the agony of decision! Women's phone numbers have expiration dates, but each one is different and I never know how long. Do I call her now? It's been two weeks... argh, I should do it, but... okay. I'll call her tomorrow. Only, then tomorrow comes, and it's now two weeks and a day, and boy, you know, I've got work until nine pm and dangit, I can't remember if it's her phone or your parent's and it's nine thirty and then it's ten, and ten is way too late to call and have her parents answer...

So I waited.

Too long. I guess it really doesn't matter when the expiration date is, if I never call.

I messed up. And I'm sorry.

Getting a cellphone improved things, but still, stuff happened. I got sick, or my car broke down. Maybe I was too broke that week to buy you dinner. Or I suddenly found myself in a relationship with another girl (that rapidly spiraled to it's inevitable but unforeseeable destruction) and didn't feel like I should call, even though the other relationship was over, but everything was all hurt and confused and tired inside me, and I didn't want to date anyone, even though... I really did want to spend time with you.

Yep. I messed everything up. 

But I would like you to know this: it wasn't ever about you. 

You were great, okay? You got me to come out of my male insecurities, to risk asking you for your number in the hopes that you'd say yes. You were a person that I thought was worth getting to know.

The not-following-through... that's all on me. My fault. My excuse. My story problem to which I gave an insufficient answer. Not yours.

Anyway. I just wanted to tell you what was going on. And maybe, if it happens again, if the expiration date is likely past and gone... heck, I'll probably call you anyway now. Because who knows?

Thanks for hearing me out.


The Guy Who Never Called

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