Whelp. I did hear back from good ol’ Ricky Ricardo yesterday. He asked via text if he could “make it up” to me (for him canceling our date), and I answered, “sure!”
And then nothing. Crickets. So…from smitten to pretty much zilch in a matter of days. I suppose that’s not really a record, but my head is still spinning.
And look. I realize that I may be fickle, but fuck it all! I’m trying, dammit. I WANT a partner. I’m not desperate, but I truly do want someone in my life.
The thing is that nobody wants to really work for stuff like this. They give up so easily. So why waste my own time? I was already annoyed that I’d spent a good portion of 48 hours fantasizing about a little white dress, for god’s sake.
I mean, if I’d been the one who was sick and I really, REALLY wanted the other person to know that I was truly ill and not think that I was making it up, I’d do a few things: (1) I wouldn’t cancel at 6:45 in the morning when the date was that evening. I’d try to sleep it off and see how I felt by noon or something; (2) I would have made sure that the other person truly knew that I was sick and it wasn’t just about the previous date being “off” (he wholeheartedly said that our last meeting was “definitely off” and didn’t expound any further and then went silent); (3) I would have asked for a raincheck on the spot so that the other person knew that I wasn’t blowing them off.
But that’s just me. And why do I feel like I have to defend myself here?
And though Ricky has sent me a few more texts, he still hasn’t contacted me about any kind of make-up situation.
I went to bed early on Saturday night. And yes, I had another first Bumble date on Sunday afternoon. I’ll tell you about that in the next entry.
xox,
GS
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