Barely two hours after I posted my last blog entry I received a long text message from the Country Boy.
Some of it was about me. About how I’m going to keep being frustrated by him when he’s busy. About how I should find someone who can see me more often.
Some of it was about him. About how he’s so run-down and exhausted that he couldn’t handle a situation with me ending contact again.
Some of it was about us. About how we should end things for now.
He finished by asking if I agreed.
I was so taken aback that I didn’t know what to say, however, I knew he’d wait up until he heard from me.
I ended up saying I didn’t agree but I’d let him go.
In looking back, my message sounds impersonal and clunky but the words were the only ones I could find at the time. I don’t even know if that’s what I wanted to say, hell, I didn’t even say goodbye.
Even after re-reading his message several times I still don’t know if he was ending things permanently or if deep-down he wanted me to fight against his flight response. But I’m harbouring some anger that he didn’t tell me his overloaded schedule was continuing (he ended a project a fortnight ago that was going to free his time; now he could be busy with backlog or new work but I can’t know if he soldiers on gallantly and doesn’t tell me). And I didn’t know if he meant literally that I should find someone else or if it was a gentler way of saying he didn’t want me. Regardless, I am still feeling guilty that my presence became another source of worry to him and that was never my intention.
Part of me is calmly convinced that he’ll make contact in a few weeks or months if his life has settled, but another part feels okay about reinstating my online profile and moving on for the right reasons. It’s a conflicting duality but day by day the sadness resulting from one is receding while my interest in the other is increasing.