Blue November, Mindless Hunger in A transparent lockbox

Whenever I go to the city, I worry that I will run into the only guy I ever thought I liked. If we are being honest, he’s a guy I didn’t know very well. We talked every day for a month and a half, but we never met. The allure to him still confuses me. We lived about 2 hours apart. I think part of it was that he was the first guy I was interested in who reciprocated what I felt, at least for a little while. I thought he was the most gorgeous man, the smartest one too.
There was something much more desperate in me back then. Even though when we talked, I asked all the questions, I just assumed he was nervous or a poor conversationalist. My insecurity and ego would get to me and I would just ignore him, hoping that if we were to stop talking, it wouldn’t be embarrassing or disheartening, but rather something that just faded away. Every time I would leave him on read, he would message me 2-3 times throughout the day, telling me about his work, asking how my day went, showing me his pets, and each time he would try to salvage our conversations, my liking for him was reinforced. I wasn’t just playing games for validation though, I wanted a connection with us. There was the perfect mix of banality and vulnerability in it all. Talked about the menial tasks we do each day, what we like in our coffee, but also our struggles, joys, and pasts. We were always sending each other pictures of our bodies, exploring sensuality with each other in conversation. In the 1.5 months we talked, it started with him saying he wanted a relationship, and I messaged and said “Hey, you know if you aren’t interested you can just tell me, no harm.” and he would always say “I am, I am, just so busy lately.” One time he said he was going to take me on a date when I was on my break from university, and that night I found the best sushi places around in case he was serious. The date never happened though, the conversations got less personal, and he kept getting farther away, but close enough to keep me interested.
There was a night I went shopping in November. It was my mother and I. We went to the pet store and grocery shopping, and all I could think of was him. He had a collection of fish, and he always loved to show them to me, also he loved pineapples and there happened to be a whole display at the supermarket. I got home, I had two martini’s (gin and olives of course), and I decided it was time to seek clarity. No more just ignoring or sending non-confrontational messages. I wrote probably 50 words, essentially saying “I like you, and I want to know if you like me and if you have any intent of trying this.” About three hours later, he responded saying “I’m not really ready to date right now, I don’t expect you to wait for me, I’m just kinda living my life right now.” All I said back was “I understand. I wish you well and hope all works out for you.”, it was much longer than that though and a beautiful departure message, in my opinion. I was drunk, I was sad, and I never had dealt with rejection this personally before. It was 1 AM and so I decided it was the perfect time to shower. I let the water hug me, and I sat there and tried to cry, but I couldn’t. I wanted to. In my mind, the idea seemed freeing, but I couldn’t. I felt relief that I knew, and I think my mind just wanted to block the pain so I was suddenly alright and fine. The next morning he responded to the goodbye message I left, and all he sent was a picture of his dick with a winking emoji. At that moment, I knew I made the right choice in not letting myself be led on.
There were a few more instances after this where he would message me a picture of something he had seen at work that he knew I would like, and I would respond “Oh nice!” or something simple. He would be sure to message at least once a week, and because of this I reached out and said “You know, if you want, I would still be open to friendship.” which was so stupid of me, and that he just left on read, and for some reason that was more heartbreaking than the initial rejection. Just that maybe it wasn’t even me that he liked enough to stay around, just my body or my looks. I knew at that point it wasn’t fair for me, and so I made myself like a ghost in his life. I cut off all possible methods of communication, he was blocked on everything I could think of, and I just wanted him to forget of my existence and I needed to forget his. For me, if I didn’t know who he was anymore, I couldn’t miss him, and if he didn’t know me, he couldn’t say he rejected me, because he never knew me.
It was quite uneventful after this, just occasionally seeing each other on dating apps but never reaching out again. Sometimes I go to his city though, and for some reason, I’d always worry I would bump into him and that if I did, I would cry. The most recent time I was there though, I was walking through the downtown streets on a Saturday night with my best friend, and it was endlessly crowded. The fear came to me “fuck, what if I see him among these people.” and then I realized while looking at them all, that any of them could be him, and I wouldn’t even know. He looked so much like everyone else and no longer held a special place in my memory that would preserve his likeness. He was just a man, and one I was unsure I would recognize any longer. At this point, I think he’s in a relationship somewhere because I haven’t seen him on the apps in a while, but after 2 years, I no longer worry I’ll bump into him while walking.