Silence ain't golden

I contacted three people last week who, perhaps, I shouldn’t have.
First, I texted the doctor. All I asked was ‘still friends?’ Seemingly not, as she has failed to reply. I’m disappointed because I don’t want to lose touch with her. She’s good company and one of an ever-declining group of people I can call on when I want a night out. Plus, she may have a nice single friend (although she is nice and single herself).

Second, was my ex-girlfriend. I sent her a couple of texts asking whether she read this blog (I couldn’t remember whether I had sent her the address) and another on the subject of a standing joke. None of them merited a reply. I was equally disappointed. I know it’s not the done thing to stay in contact with old flames, but the nature and brevity of our relationship should not preclude this. It was only a few weeks before she ‘announced’ her new relationship that she was talking about meeting up, and only a couple of weeks before, she initiated a conversation on Facebook.

Maybe her ignoring me is best for my peace of my mind – in the long run. As I’ve said before, I am struggling to come to terms with her new relationship. And I admit that when she revealed who her new bloke was, I looked him up on Facebook. I wanted to know whether he was better looking, younger or taller than me. All I’m going to say is that there are more than 300 pictures of him on the website.

This time last year, we were very close friends. We’d had a very enjoyable kiss, but she didn’t seem to want a relationship. I turned down an invitation to her 30th birthday party, and she texted me twice during the evening saying how much she was wishing I was there. Although I wanted more from our relationship, what we had was still amazing. After a complicated few months, we were a couple for about 12 weeks in the spring. So having been very close for a year, why just because we shared a bed (very occasionally) for three months am I not allowed to have any contact with one of the best friends I have ever had?

Third was a woman who lives in the flat opposite me. I saw her coming back from a run one day, probably about three years ago. Then a few days later, she was returning from Tesco with ‘shopping for one’. As she looked more my age than most of my neighbours (who are mostly couples, anyway), I put a note through her letterbox, asking her out.

I heard nothing for a few days, then Michelle emailed me. She said that she was flattered, but had met a bloke during a trip to Australia a few months previously, and he was coming to live with her in a couple of weeks. We exchanged a couple of emails, during which it transpired that she was the same age as me, also a self-employed media worker and a Guinness-drinking, curry-loving West Ham fan. She even asked me if I could be her Aussie bloke’s mate, cos he wouldn’t know anyone in London.

After that, we inevitably lost touch. But about a year later, Michelle contacted me. She had split up with her fella. We exchanged a few emails and then embarked on a pretty intense texting ‘relationship’. I’ve still got some of her messages, as they were quite strong, considering that we had never met: ‘I can’t wait to get my hands on you’, ‘I’ll keep you up all night’ and ‘if you’re lucky, you’ll find how bad a sweet girl can be’. She even sent me a couple of photos of herself.

For various reasons (including Michelle temporarily moving to south-west London, while her parents rented her flat), we never got round to meeting. But about two months later, at our annual residents’ meeting, there was somebody sitting across the table from me, who kept looking at me. Having seen Michelle twice only from a distance, I didn’t think it was her. Whoever it was, looked great. But then somebody addressed her by name. So after the meeting, I went over for a chat. I suggested going out for a drink, but she said it was tricky, because she was still living on the other side of London and hadn’t seen her parents for a while.

So Michelle told me to email her. I did a few days later. No reply. I tried again after a few weeks. Nothing. She’s back in Epping now, although I think she’s seeing someone (he looks about 10 years older than me, is overweight and must have been heartbroken when C&A went of business).
Since that few weeks of intense flirting (and Michelle did all the running), I have heard nothing. It’s such a shame, as we have so much in common. Now the only mate I’ve got in Epping is moving to Docklands, so I need a new playmate, as the idea of trekking into London on a Saturday night is becoming increasingly unappealing.

So, in a moment of weakness, I decided that I might as well notch a hat-trick of knockbacks (after the doctor and my ex) and sent this email to Michelle: ‘With my last Epping mate moving to Docklands next month, I’m in even more need of a curry-loving/Guinness- drinking/West Ham-supporting/self-employed media-type runner as a purely platonic playmate. So how about it?’ Nothing.