Last year, after a very long absence, the Real Scientist was back in touch. Spurred on by the release of my book and hearing me on the radio, he called and asked me out to lunch. I hadn’t heard from him in ages, but was delighted.
We met at a bistro in Hell’s Kitchen and had a lovely time. Neither of us was at a loss for words. I confessed that he had a chapter in my book, and happily the conversation continued rather than coming to an abrupt end. Our date was followed by several lengthy phone conversations. We made plans to meet again and he sent me a charming birthday e-card. I was beginning to believe that there was real chemistry with the Real Scientist.
During our date he had alluded to health issues, and in one phone conversation he discussed his surgery although he never disclosed what the issue really was. We continued to make plans and then suddenly he disappeared. There were no more calls. There were no more e-mails. Typically responsive, the Real Scientist seemed to simply fall off the face of the Earth. He had so diligently stayed in touch before, that I became concerned. I reached out and had no response. Months passed.
I concluded that he was dead.
It made perfect sense. The Real Scientist was in his late 50s. It could have been anything. Perhaps he had a bad ticker. I wondered if his surgery had been for something more serious. I could only conclude that this man who had been so attentive must be dead. And so, life goes on.
To my surprise, after a six-month absence, The Real Scientist appeared on Facebook requesting to be my friend. Stunned, I accepted his invitation, sending a note asking where the hell he had been. Days passed and finally he responded. He apologized for being absent and rude, offering to begin to pay his debt by taking me out for dinner. Not one to hold a grudge, and the fact that I had always found this man to be rather attractive, I agreed that it would be a good place to start.
I never heard from him again.
It has been a month since his last missive. So, why did he bother to reach out? Is Facebook just another place where he can NOT communicate with me? Any insight from the male perspective would be greatly appreciated.
In the meantime, for those who continue to seek out new ways of non-communication, I offer this brilliant sentiment….
We met at a bistro in Hell’s Kitchen and had a lovely time. Neither of us was at a loss for words. I confessed that he had a chapter in my book, and happily the conversation continued rather than coming to an abrupt end. Our date was followed by several lengthy phone conversations. We made plans to meet again and he sent me a charming birthday e-card. I was beginning to believe that there was real chemistry with the Real Scientist.
During our date he had alluded to health issues, and in one phone conversation he discussed his surgery although he never disclosed what the issue really was. We continued to make plans and then suddenly he disappeared. There were no more calls. There were no more e-mails. Typically responsive, the Real Scientist seemed to simply fall off the face of the Earth. He had so diligently stayed in touch before, that I became concerned. I reached out and had no response. Months passed.
I concluded that he was dead.
It made perfect sense. The Real Scientist was in his late 50s. It could have been anything. Perhaps he had a bad ticker. I wondered if his surgery had been for something more serious. I could only conclude that this man who had been so attentive must be dead. And so, life goes on.
To my surprise, after a six-month absence, The Real Scientist appeared on Facebook requesting to be my friend. Stunned, I accepted his invitation, sending a note asking where the hell he had been. Days passed and finally he responded. He apologized for being absent and rude, offering to begin to pay his debt by taking me out for dinner. Not one to hold a grudge, and the fact that I had always found this man to be rather attractive, I agreed that it would be a good place to start.
I never heard from him again.
It has been a month since his last missive. So, why did he bother to reach out? Is Facebook just another place where he can NOT communicate with me? Any insight from the male perspective would be greatly appreciated.
In the meantime, for those who continue to seek out new ways of non-communication, I offer this brilliant sentiment….
Comments
He's still playing grade school games and isn't worth the paper or screen writing about. So kick him to the curb and let us know how it goes :)