“So I’m not allowed to text her back?”
“No!” they said in unison.
“Look. It sucks, okay? I know it does. But you screwed up. You sent her seven–that’s SEVEN–texts without her responding. You freaked her out. Then she stood you up–twice. The only way you’ll know she’s not just stringing you along is if you wait for her to really try to set up a date. If you answer her text now, you’re just playing into her crazy hands,” his friend explained.
“I just don’t get it. You don’t know how she talked, what she said. How does this make any sense? I only texted her that night because we had scheduled a phone call and she didn’t call and it was late. Explain to me how I am in the wrong for letting her know I was worried?” he said, still hurting.
“Listen. You’ve only talked to this girl for a few days. Days! It sounds like the situation looked promising, but the girl also sounds crazy. No one in their right mind talks to people how you tell me she talked to you. That she has stopped talking to you, taken together with the fact that her last text to you demonstrates she can’t tell what day she received a text on illustrates that something fishy is going on. You have to see that, don’t you?” his brother said, chiming in.
“I guess. It’s just that I’ve never really felt this way before. And her voice. If you could just hear her accent… I’m telling you, these things can’t be faked. I need to talk to her again. But you’re telling me I can’t. She texted me just now. Out of the blue. Doesn’t that mean something? I just don’t understand why I can’t text her back,” he cried out.
“You’re right. I don’t understand either. I don’t. I don’t understand the whole situation. I don’t understand women. What is the deal? I mean, we’re smart enough. We should be able to figure them out.”
The three single men were enveloped by a profound silence–a necessary silence if they were to hear the cracking of that sentiment’s foundation. Their smiles and laughter confirmed that they heard it indeed.