Two ships, four weeks

I know enough of "He's just not that into you" (those six words are really all you need to know) to know that he just wasn't that into me.

Except each time that I'd decided to move on, he would enthusiastically email me to set up a time to hang out, or put multiple exclamation marks behind his endorsement of a dinner date, or make me smile by picking out the green-colored card during our board game because he noticed green to be my favorite color.

But then I wouldn't hear from him for a whole week. The typical set of mixed signals and roller coaster rides.

Until tonight when I just asked him what it all meant, because mixed signals don't help me.

He told me I was right to have sensed hesitancy because he is indeed hesitant. He's worried about timing because we will both be gone for three months this summer, and he fears he will simply sit and over-think reasons that this would ultimately fail during that time. Even three months from now when he will be back in Boston for one more year of school, he always envisioned himself moving to Silicon Valley after school, whereas I would continue working in Boston. And he promised himself he would not pursue another long-distance relationship.

Which is funny, because that was my exact thought process. Except my conclusion was that I was still willing to give it a shot because I've not met someone this fantastic in a long time. His conclusion was that the timing just wasn't right.

He's just not that into me.

I told him that one of the reasons I'm particularly bummed is that he is the first person to really excite me in a long time. "There are plenty of people out there to date," I said, "and most are perfectly nice, but no one has excited me for a really long time." He agreed, saying that I make him feel the same way, whereas most women don't excite him either. But he can't get excited about "us" yet because he doesn't actually know me deeply and doesn't know us as an entity and thus can't have faith that we are the two people who would be right for each other.

"So how do you get to know that?" I asked.

"By spending time with someone, by actually dating them, by investing energy and effort to really get to know their personality and person. But all of that takes investment, and I'm generally hesitant about investing because I know I will be gone from Boston in a year, and it feels horrible when something you've invested so much in fails. I'm scared, and I'm commitment-phobic because there's no stability in my life right now."

I could have asked him how he knows this would fail without even trying? I could have said that if this were really a priority for him, he'd be willing to make the investment because he wouldn't want to live with the regret that he passed up the opportunity on "the one."

But I didn't say any of that. I just said that I already figured that's how he felt.

And then he asked, "Why didn't we try this 6 months ago?" suggesting that it could have made all the difference, could have given him enough faith while apart for the summer to stay engaged and optimistic, could have been enough time as opposed to starting a relationship come September.

Talk about more mixed signals in a conversation to clarify mixed signals.

"I didn't think you were interested," I answered, and then after a pause, "and I probably wasn't ready 6 months ago." I should have told him it was because he didn't make a move. I was ready in February, if only he'd made a move.

There are so many things I didn't say that I could have said, but perhaps it's better that I left them unsaid. I could have called him out and asked why he would keep leading me on if he has had these doubts all along? Or forget all along, "Why, earlier today, would you have invited me on a 3-day hiking/camping later THIS week when you are so obviously so hesitant??"

But then I'd just be making him verbalize everything that I already know. I could have said that I've thought for some time now that I would ultimately end up in the Bay Area after a bit more time in Boston to be closer to my family and to work the East Coast out of me. Or that I would be willing to move out to the Bay Area with him after he graduates in a year because that's just what I do: go out on a limb to make something I believe work (that, or give too much to relationships and try too hard, dragging them out way past their due date).

Or I could have simply said that I think we would have amazing adventures. Which I truly believe we would.

But I didn't say any of that. What would have been the point? I'd just be countering all of his excuses and cornering him to offer new ones.

He continued.

"You are someone my unmarried self would always go on a date with."

I could have asked him what exactly that meant, and why must he still continue to give me mixed signals even within this conversation, but I didn't.

And he continued.

"But I think I would just be hesitant about this whole thing, and the summer would generate more of a wall for me. You don't deserve that."

I chuckled and told him that was the best reason that he'd given so far. He asked why.

It's because if this were a priority for you, all the timing things wouldn't matter - you make your own definition of "bad timing." It's because if this were important to you, you would think the circumstantial difficulties are just that: circumstantial difficulties that we could work through. But all of this is moot because you are hesitant. I can offer counterpoints for all of your reasons about bad timing and long distance, but I can't counter your hesitancy about "us" because that is the one thing I can't change. Which makes it the best answer yet.

He lamented how hard this problem is because there are no solutions - we are just faced with the worst possible timing. So I offered a solution, "Should we just go back to being friends?"

"Yeah I think that would be best," he said.

We looked at each other, smiled, and nodded. I smiled out of sadness and nodded in agreement because what else can I do but to agree? Perhaps he smiled out of nervousness because I smiled, but his nodding broke my heart a little bit more. He is resolute, and this was the solution he wanted all along but didn't have the balls to say.

Then he asked, "Can we still get brunch together in the fall?"

I sighed. "We'll see."

What I should have said was, "What? Seriously?" But I didn't.