Shy engineer dating
Over the ensuing days, we sent texts bordering on sexts. Hoping his phone broke, I confronted him on Facebook Messenger.
He replied curtly, saying he’d been busy, and didn’t mention our dinner plans.
But come winter, his disappearance still haunted me. He replied: “I was scared to admit someone from my past came back. I’m sorry.” I typed, “At least you’re telling me now.” To remain on friendly terms, I included him in a group Christmas text. For months afterward, I kept Facebook open at work to welcome his daily “hey” or transmit my own. A friends-with-benefits arrangement wasn’t my first choice, but it seemed better than nothing.
Ten months later, lying lonely in my new Manhattan apartment, I re-friended him, in spite of how he’d ghosted me. Looking back, I wonder if my inability to cut ties was my downfall: He clearly communicated he wasn’t into a relationship with me, but I held out hope anyway.
I unfriended him, grieving the future I’d imagined. We laughed (though it hadn’t been funny to me), and he asked if I wanted to come over and watch a movie. “I’m not looking to date anyone now,” he confirmed over Facebook.
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Super Coupe was a software engineer who played guitar in a heavy metal band. After a chat about indie bands and animal psychology, I wrote: “Find me on Facebook.” His profile revealed he was traveling to New York from Rhode Island that weekend, like me, and had a spare ticket to a concert.
I asked if I could take it, apologizing for stalking him.
We arranged to meet at Chelsea Market before the concert, and he sent his digits.
With curly black hair and a plaid blue shirt, he looked as gorgeous as he did in the Facebook photos I clicked through on the bus ride.
Going Dutch for Thai food, we talked about our families, music and TV tastes. I borrowed his phone when mine died, and realized it was still sitting in my purse while hailing a cab.