Why doesn’t he call me? Is it me? Am I not good enough? The phone is ringing. Heart flutters. Can’t hit the right button. My sister. Whether a new episode of my dating soap has started already. Obviously not.
Today I realized that men live in another time dimension than women. Time simply works differently for them. Whatever seems like ages for us (I mean, come on, three days of waiting for a sign of life after an amazing date, that is ages, right?) is ‘just a moment’ for them. No worries. Next week you’ll still be there right? Different reality, impossible to compare. Anyway, my current dating soap star. He keeps horribly quiet. And we had so much fun, last Friday. We talked for hours on end, drank a beer, and another beer. We both forgot about time. Talked about everything. That means you have a click, right? Or am I crazy?
My sister told me that sometimes she gives me a call to forget the boredom of her own life. As if a husband and three children are boring. She moved and because of that her kids are going to a new school. The biggest worry of my oldest niece is if she’ll make new friends at the new school. The biggest worry of the youngest one is that she can’t have cookies there, but fruit and healthy snacks only. “They’re really strict, aren’t they mom?” she said.
I wished life were as it was. Like back in the days when I only had to worry about girl friends and what kind of cookie we would get during our breaks. Then I fortunately didn’t know yet about the men’s world and their secret time dimension. Then I fortunately didn’t know yet about all the questions that would rise, about three days after a wonderful date. The endless accumulation of self-undermining questions. Why doesn’t he call me? Is it me? Am I not good enough?
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