About a year and a half ago, I met this super cute, sweet, lovely guy. He was the only date I ever went on off Tinder, and we dated for several weeks. He was from upstate New York and worked in construction – kind of a bro, on the surface, but ultimately one of the gentlest and sweetest dates I’d ever been on. We went out five times, or so – drinks, dinner, a baseball game – and then I ended things unceremoniously, over text.

At the time, I wasn’t at all ready to get into something real with someone. I was terrified of men because so many had treated me like shit, and I was just afraid to move into anything serious (although I thought I was ready going into it). I didn’t even know that I was being shitty when I ended things with him over text, although I obviously was, looking back.

About 6 months ago, we got back in touch. We made a plan to get drinks that he flaked on, which hurt. He was pretty mad at me, and hurt, and we talked about it a little bit. But I was in a relationship, anyway, so I kind of let it go.

On the day Z and I broke up, I texted The Sweetheart, and made a date with him for four days down the line. But the next night, I had a panic attack. I realized it was way too soon to go out with anyone, that I was still processing this whole break up thing, and I asked him if we could postpone our date.

I knew that this would probably hurt his feelings, and I tried to mitigate that as best as possible.

“I hope you know that this doesn’t mean I’m not interested, I just need a little bit of time to sort things out.”

“I understand,” he said. “I respect your space.”

We texted for a while. And then, after some time had passed, I asked if he wanted to get a drink. He didn’t respond to the request, so I asked another time, again with no response. I asked bluntly, “Are you purposely ignoring my drink requests?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I don’t want to make plans and get cancelled on again.”

This made me feel terrible. I knew that I had hurt him a year and a half ago, and I had worried about cancelling again. I told him that I was sincerely sorry, and would genuinely like to see him again – I was interested, I am interested, really – but I was willing to give him whatever time he wanted to decide if/when he wanted to go out with me again.

So far, I haven’t heard back. It’s been several hours. I’m trying not to think about it, but I can’t help it, and I feel horrible.

I’m usually complaining about men being assholes to me. About them flaking, or never responding to texts, or telling me they’re “not really looking for a relationship” after we’ve been on a lovely date. But, this time, I’m the asshole. And it appears that I totally blew it with a really nice guy who I genuinely like.  I’m trying not to obsess over it, trying not to text him a thousand times like I am sometimes wont to do. But you, my dear readers, know how hard that is for me.

Ideally, I’ll get to go on another date with the cute, sweet guy I met a year and a half ago, with no hard feelings on his part, and we’ll have a fantastic time. Cross your fingers. Hope that he gets back to me. Hope that we get to try things again, and have a fun, sensitive, gentle time. And hope for zen for me, and the patience not to text him again, and an overall good outcome.