But Why? Part Two

OK, so last week, I wrote about the nightmare that is not knowing why a man does random things. Like taking our number and not calling. Like saying he wants to see you again, then never calling. Or saying he's single, and you actually find out that he's married with kids (Facebook stalking has it's merits ladies and gents, I assure you!). We end up asking why, pulling our hair out, drinking to access with our girls, and calling him every name under the sun, whilst hoping we're wrong.(If this occurs, may I strongly suggest deleting his number - drunken abuse texting / stalking is really not going to make him think "I was wrong - she's a keeper").

In said blog, my good male friends shared with us their thoughts, and made a fair amount of sense. So all was well - we had an answer of sorts. I was content. Until the unspeakable occurred. I have not been called by my date, and I am the one now asking WHY???? I have turned into a phone checking wreck - a mixture of Catherine Tate ("am I bovered?") and a sad girl from a rom-com book, I so despise. (Although if I was in a rom-com book, it'd all come good as I would meet the tall, brooding man from the house on the hill, who I will embarrass myself in front of etc etc - read Happily Ever After for my full theory).

The history - a month ago or so, I had a very nice date with a very nice man. That's the best way to describe it - it wasn't my usual "danger" date - I was highly well behaved, drank soft drinks all night, made good conversation, and stuck to my list of things I am allowed to talk about (penguins; my job; tigers) and avoided the off the list subjects (my old job; exes; drunken stories involving tequila or sambucca). It went so well dear readers, that the unthinkable happened - he asked me out again straight away that night - AND I didn't have to get him trollied first.Result.

The next date though, was to be after his holibobs - a trip somewhere in Europe to climb things (assuming mountains). At this point, I'll be honest, I wasn't that bothered by the whole thing. He was nice, I liked his company, and he hadn't worn a Dennis The Menace jumper; plied me with wine; and wasn't an ex game show host with a dodgy catchphrase. But I wasn't jumping through hoops - my friends were concerned....normally LD would be shouting from the roof tops, and skipping along, singing love songs. So, really I was not that bothered.....

So a week goes by, and in my head, I have this as his rough return day. No call or text appears after a few days, but I'm still not bothered. I still send him a "hey" text asking how the holiday was. When I receive no reply, I'm still not bothered. Theory Number One - I got the holiday dates wrong. He's obviously away for 2 weeks.

Life carries on. Birds keep singing, money keeps getting spent, and the rain appears as the schools break up. Another week goes by. And still no text. Hmmm, OK, so maybe I should text again? obviously. Another LD cheeky text is administered. Yet still, no reply after a few days. New theories start to appear:
Theory Number Two - He's still away...maybe he's climbing a really big rock?
Theory Number Three - He's injured and in a Swiss hospital with his legs, arms and hands in plaster, unable to call or text me. The nurses can't help - predictive text in another language confuses them(they will be Swiss or French - can't remember where he was going in fairness).
Theory Number Four - He's met the LOHL up said rock, and is wildly in love with her.

I go with theory two, against my better judgement....

So, we are now on week three, and guess what? NO communication. Coming from a guy that asked me out straight away; text me telling how he'd had a great time and we'd meet up again after his holiday, this is weird to me. OK, he never said which holiday - he may mean a trip in 10 years all I know, but I assumed he meant THIS particular one. Theories are now getting a bit wayward....
Theory Five - He googled my name, discovered my blog, and has gone off me (a dull shit then if he doesn't get my humour)
Theory Six - The girl who he is friends with on Facebook, that bullied me at school, has warned him off (Facebook stalking slightly admittedly).
Theory Seven - Karma has caught up with me for not replying to the annoying stalker man who keeps sending me weird "I scored a goal at football" text messages. I've not stalked Rock Man, but to be fair, karma might not be bothered. The universe is playing a trick on me. Bitch.
Theory Eight - It was all a terrible hoax - he was a set up from some evil nemesis and was sent to upset me and make me feel shite (there must be one out there somewhere....Mistress Mayhem maybe?)
Theory Nine - He really is highly injured - he was so sincere....and seemed so kind and nice. Of course, he will text, as soon as he is fit and well, and has escaped the rock / kidnappers / nurses etc.

Or, plain and simple, he's just not that into me. And I have to man the fuck up and get a grip, because lets face it, as much as I have said I'm not bothered, I am. At one point I got cross and ranted about being bothered that I was bothered, especially as I wasn't bothered in the beginning - hence sounding like Catherine Tate. But whether I sound like her, Vicky Pollard or Edina from Ab Fab, the point remains that for the time being, I remain unlucky in love, with no reason WHY.