Are They Actually a Different Species?

Warning: I am writing this a little pissy. Hmmm, quite a bit pissy.

Also, this post is brought to you by the amazingness that is the McFlurry. I am expecting the sugar to kick in in a few paragraph's time.

 

I want to keep this as short as possible but I can't guarantee that. You know I love a good ol' flight-of-ideas rant.

I have been seeing this guy, we'll call him Mr X, for about a month. This is my first foray into a 'real' adult relationship and I really, really like this guy. In spite of this rant, I do still really like him, and hope everything works out. But I just need to let off a little steam, so hold on tight...

This is happening inside my head.

I do not understand how males and females can be SO DIFFERENT when it comes to communication.

Really? Is it hard? Do you have some alternate method of communication? ESP? Clearly not, because you're not reading my mind right now. (insert quip about how Edward Cullen is perfect here).

We have a relatively good history with communication. The preferred method appears to be text message. I am OK with this. I may or may not have altered my cellphone contract within days of things getting serious to increase my monthly text allowance. We text A LOT. Multiple times per day. Tens of texts per day. And I like this.

Cut to last week. Things change. Granted, there are extraneous factors. Mr X gets a new job. It's stressful. His troubled friend comes to town and needs support. And the texts decrease markedly. I get it. People are busy. It's cool.

Cut to Friday night. This is now a week after I sent him a carefully worded "when we hang out can we please do something other than watch movies cos I want to have conversation with you" text. Fuck. Have I scared him off? Haven't seen him all week. I phone him because I'm travelling and I know he's stressed. He doesn't answer. That's fine.

Here's an issue: don't send me a text back saying you'll call me when you get home, and then not call.

Sugar, you are my life now.

Hello, sugar rush. I'm really getting into this now. You guys are great therapists. Speaking of, this week will be a packed session on the couch. But that's another story.

So, I hear nothing on Saturday. Hmm, I think. I know he's busy. I'll call this evening: Voicemail. I leave a light, cheerful, 'hope you're OK' message.

Sunday, I think something might be wrong. Then I think no, let's just see what happens. I will not text. I will not text. I do not text.

This better be your reason.

Monday (today) rolls around. When we last spoke, last Wednesday, we agreed tonight would be date night. Somewhat hopefully, I think perhaps this means we might go out. You know, like a real date. But at this point, I'll take any form of contact. Please bear in mind, despite the ranting, what I said above. I do really, really like Mr X. I'm torn between wanting to kick his arse and jump his bones.

Sooo, I hear nothing today. I wait. I try not to be angry. I rationalise my frustration. I take calming breaths. When he's not here and hasn't been in touch by 7pm, I text:

"Are we still on for tonight? I thought you were coming over after work" <--- please note no nicknames, smiley faces or kisses (which are my norm).

"I'm soooo sorry, I totally forgot." There was more, but this is the need-to-know. Please bear in mind that this is the first communication I have heard since Friday. Three days ago.

This about wraps up my issue. It's just so fucking frustrating! Are men actually from Mars? Surely I am not the only woman to be frustrated at this chain of events? Ladies, I neeeeeed you. I need to hear how the whole male race sucks at this. I need to hear that I am not alone.

And also, whether or not anyone ever died from McFlurry-induced sugar surges. I'm booking in for my type 2 diabetes test now.

Over and out.