Shoot me down, already.
Straightforward rejection used to be much easier to come by. Then Al Gore invented the Internet and Mark Zuckerberg revolutionized social networking. Now, more and more romantically charged requests are going unanswered.
One week later and still no reply. No acknowledgment during open gym, last night, either. We were on opposing teams, but he could have approached me with an explanation after the last whistle was blown. An excuse, at least.
I certainly wasn’t going to say anything. Especially not after I nailed him with a dodgeball when, unbeknownst to me, someone else had already tagged him out.
Greeeat, I laughed to myself. He’s going to think that was on purpose.
It was. What better vindication than inflicting mild physical discomfort on those who have scorned you? I was aiming to seem less obvious, though. Then again, subtely has never been my forte. Nor my predilection.
Give it to me straight, gay boi(z). Either you’d care to accompany me on an innocent hang out with date-like overtones or not. I know we’re a complicated species. Each of us with our own storied emotional make up and irrational quirks. But if “It’s not you, it’s me,” applies, then please – say it.
However copious your hang ups, or minimal your attraction to me might be, a concise brush off is always preferable to cryptic silence.
Ugh I hate mixed signals
thumbs up!