He finally texted me. I woke up to 2 messages from him. The first one was a selfie video of him in the car with some colleagues; they were driving into Seattle from Vancouver for a SWE conference.
The second one was a text asking if we could meet up platonically this evening just to catch up since we were gonna be in the same area anyways.
I ignored the messages for a few hours. Was in a frenzy getting ready for my workday. Finally replied by late afternoon saying I could meet up. I was disappointed when I realized how casually I was dressed and that I had forgotten to wear my date night perfume. I was still holding on to hope that this could turn into something romantic, you see.
We met up and had a good time. He was a lot shorter than I expected. I didn’t feel that spark I was hoping to. It was just waking up to his messages that I had been looking forward to the most. And now that we had finally met, it wasn’t what I had built up in my head.
Then I woke up for real. He hadn’t messaged me. And so the ache returned. What does it say about me that I still wish he had messaged for real?