I don’t claim to be an expert in these matters, but I’m also not a complete ignorant. I know what an absolute no looks like and what a maybe looks like. And I know that sometimes a maybe turns into a yes. This happens. It happens in the real world, and it could happen to me. I just needed to do something. Or nothing, depending on who I asked. 

 

Two weeks after my house party I found myself sitting on my bed, scrolling through her profile for the millionth time. I almost knew it by heart: Farmer’s market. Tennis outfit. Famous dive bar. A happy family in some paradisiac destination. She looked good in a bikini. An MGMT concert. A fluffy cat. A Black Lives Matter march. Beach picnic. She looked very good in a bikini.

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I, for the millionth time too, wanted to ask her out in an explicitly non-friendly way but I didn’t know how to word it. I wanted to use the word date; we had already used all the euphemisms, all the loopholes. She was so good at it you’d need a team of lawyers to find a flaw.

 

The paradox was that whenever I was able to dispense of any hope of us ever being together, was when I showed my best version, that is, the friend version. As soon as I considered being something more, I started second guessing myself, which meant that I ended up showing my least sexy version to the person to whom I wanted to show the sexiest.

 

I decided I couldn’t postpone it any longer; if there were such things as perfect timing or a perfect message I had no idea what those were, so I figured I may as well send whatever, now. My fingers shook while I texted “wanna go on a date tonight?”

 

I knew she wouldn’t answer right away, she never did.

 

Her answer came five hours later. “Like… a date date?”

 

“Yes. A date. A pretty date with flowers and a horse drawn carriage.” 

 

“But I thought we were friends.”

 

That is what an absolute no looks like. I had all my friends’ advice reverberating in my mind. Nico. All my female friends. My sister. Even my mother! All had said the same thing. If she says no, get out. 

 

I knew what I had to do. I thought about telling her in person or at least calling her, but instead, I ended up sending her a cryptic voice note. It contained very few words, of which the only important one was “goodbye.” It didn’t sound sad enough though. It’s hard for me to convey sadness, I always sound like I’m either joking or about to, which, to be fair, is perfectly true.

 

After sending the voice note I immediately put the phone in silent and facing down. Whatever came out of it, I didn’t want to hear it. I lay in my bed and tried to cry but couldn’t. I can’t seem to be able to cry of sadness. I’ll cry if I get emotional, like if I see a sloth helping a turtle or something. I tried to induce crying by listening to this song by Band of Horses that always makes me cry but it didn’t work.

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I went for a walk without my cellphone. I felt a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. At least I knew where I was standing. Loneliness is terrible, but anxiety is worse.

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​I flaneured all along the coastline and distracted myself people-watching. I watched the volleyball players, the yoga/meditation folks, the acrobats, the dogs at the dog beach, the skaters, the gym bros, the tourists, the couples, the loners, the fellow loiterers, the schizophrenic, the seagulls, the doves, the ducks, the pelicans, the ants, the waves, the clouds, the sky, the Sun, the Moon, and lastly, my own reflection in a store window. Who was I kidding? I was dying to know the answer I probably already had waiting for me on my phone. The worst part was, deep-down, despite my best effort, I was still hopeful.

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​I sprinted back home. Two hours had passed since my goodbye note. On top of the nightstand lay my fate.

 

There it was: missed calls, text messages, voice notes, the whole thing. She cares, that’s something. I read it. I heard it. I re-read it. I re-heard it. It was what one would’ve expected; very heartfelt and all but nothing had changed. Nothing that moved the needle in the direction I wanted. I accepted her beseech to talk the next day.

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