The 'He Didn't Text Me Back' Cycle We All Know
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The 'He Didn't Text Me Back' Cycle We All Know

Once and again.

The 'He Didn't Text Me Back' Cycle We All Know

Today is one of those days when he doesn't text me back. We're on day four. He's not going to text back unless he wants to or unless I prod him along.

I'm a mix of angry and sad. I know if I'm sad, my friends will tell me to stop texting him and stop letting him come and go as he pleases, but things just aren't that easy. They'll do the same with their next boy and I'll tell them to do whatever they want. I'll be here when it falls apart like we knew it would.

The details about how I met him or why he's been around this long are irrelevant. They're like the paper mache shell of a piñata, necessary yet covered up in so much other crazy shit that it really doesn't matter anymore.

We've been doing this, "Is he going to text me? Is he going to text me back?" charade for about a year and a half. It's a game where he's the dealer, I have one card and I constantly play it. I'm convenient and I treat him how he treats me for the most part.

Today is one of those days where I sent the risky text about, "What are we?" and I'm waiting for a response. I threw the fact that we've been talking for over a year now. Well, not talking, but doing whatever. If he were "talking" to me, I wouldn't have to wait for him to text me back like this. It wouldn't feel like stepping barefoot into snow every time I hit "send".

It's a whole year marked first by meeting him, next by tossing out another boy who actually wanted me, next by searching for what he wouldn't give me in other guys, next by waiting for this text back.

The text I sent is based off of all of the shit he told me the night before. It is about the good conversation we have, it is about how I don't feel like I need to live up to some standard he has set and it's about why are you still here if this doesn't mean anything to you.

I leave work, I go home and sit in my bed and wonder why I even sent it. I delve deep into a new Netflix series and shut my phone off for the night after neurotically texting my friends to see what I should do.

"Stop talking to him."

"These are his true colors."

"Stop doing this to yourself, just block his number."

It's all true but why accept it? It's hard to admit that you're weak, it's hard to admit you're dependent when you've always been independent and it's hard when you actually care.

He texts me back and says we can talk the next time we hang out.

I wait a month to hang out. He tells me we can see where it goes. I believe.

I text him the next week and he never answers.

He texts me the next day and says he was asleep or at work or doing some other activity where his phone is in his hand.

I tell him not to worry and ask when we're hanging out next.

Repeat cycle.

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