Monday, December 1, 2008

Score one for the crazy person, that happened.

Sigh. I don't even know if I've got the words. But, you'll need closure on the anecdote, so go the the bathroom, get a bevy, and here we go.

I may be crazy, but in this case? I was right.

A bit of background for you:

Tyrell (a pseudonym to protect the insanely douchey) and I started chatting on a favourite website about a month ago. It started casually, but soon degenerated into hardcore, obvious flirting for the whole community to see. We'd spend hours (roughly 4 every night for ten or so day) talking just the two of us, veering into pretty naughty territory, but having a wonderful time. A few weeks ago, after we seemed to reach the point of no return, Tyrell asked me to email him. I did, and after a few emails, we exchanged numbers. Four minutes later, he called me, and we spent almost two hours on the phone, talking about all sorts of stuff. First, he admitted that he had a small thing he needed to care for every second weekend, and then, he admitted that he had taken a job which would require him to spend half his week in Hoboken. He said he wasn't sure about "starting something" with this change looming, and I replied that we hadn't really started anything. We made plans for the next night.

I was worried that we wouldn't hit it off in person, or that he wouldn't like the way I looked (or vice versa). But it turned out just fine. He came, we watched the hockey game together, he watched me curl. After, we went back to his place for drinks. The next day, he sent me home in a cab (that he paid for) and I sorta figured that might be it. But, he sent me an email, and that started a downpour. We would talk on the phone for roughly 1.5 to 2 hours every night, and during the day, we'd text each other and email. He initiated all this, always being the one to start the emailing, texting or phone calls. I was playing it cool. He said he had the next Saturday free, so did I want to have lunch? I said sure, and we agreed that he'd bring lunch to my place. He brought a lovely bottle of wine and a charming Italian dish. It was fantastic.

In seven days, I received 100 text messages from him, all talking about how wonderful I was, and how he couldn't wait to see me. We'd talk about how this whole thing was a little overwhelming and how we couldn't believe that it had happened so quickly. A week ago, we planned meeting up in a few weeks for one big bash before Hoboken, and he talked about wanting to see me before then. He asked me to lunch, but I couldn't go. Then he asked me for coffee, and indicated that he really wanted to see me. I went, and we had a great time, sitting and drinking our coffee and talking.

Wednesday, after some racy text messages, we agreed that we'd meet up after my exam. We met up, went to his place, and spent a nice evening. When I needed to go home (due to foreign diplomats arriving at his place the next day and the need to clean up in preparation) he kept on repeating how he couldn't believe he was doing something so stupid and sending me home. He gave me money for a cab, and walked me outside, gave me a kiss and popped me into a cab with instructions to text when I got home. I did, and we had a bit of a back and forth. Thursday, again, at his initiative, lots of texting, including a request for me to say hi to the gang on the website, as well as lots of "can't wait to see you", "wish you were here" etc from him. Friday, a quick morning text from him, my reply, and then an evening text from me.

And then? Nothing.

So, I worried and got all insane, like I tend to, and talked to my friends to calm me down, convinced that this was different and everything would be just fine. Today, three plus days since I'd heard anything, I decided to send an email, just saying hi, mentioning my weekend and asking about our plans for Thursday. I did. And immediately got a bounce back email telling me that the email I had received and sent 60 emails from/to did not exist. I had a friend confirm that it had not just been a fluke. Tyrell's email didn't work anymore.

I had my answer. I hadn't been panicking without reason.

Next time: The hell? Alternately titled: Seriously, the hell? (An in depth analysis)

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