Ten minutes after my 24-hour shift ended, I called my boyfriend. He had offered to pick me up, and I’d been looking forward to that small bit of comfort after an awful day. He hadn’t even texted to say he was awake.
His alarms hadn’t gone off, he told me. He wasn’t going to make it. I took the bus home and cried.
The ride itself wasn’t the whole reason. I love being picked up by him: getting to talk about my day, having him there, relaxing together on the way home. He’d offered something I was excited about, and I’d let myself count on it. Then I was tired, upset, and arranging my own way home instead.
We’re both 25, and we’ve been together since 2024. He’s my best friend. I love him, and we talk about staying together for good. Most of the time, I don’t question our relationship. When I do, it’s usually because I’m waiting for him or because he hasn’t shown up at all.
This didn’t begin after we got comfortable. On our first date, he was supposed to pick me up for breakfast at nine. He arrived at eleven. He was open about being like this; even his friends know that a plan to meet at two might mean seeing him at six. I knew we approached time differently. I don’t think I understood how often that difference would leave me disappointed.
I was raised to be punctual. For work or school, I’d rather arrive a little early. He can tell me he’s about to leave, say he’ll be there in twenty minutes, and arrive hours later. Sometimes I’m at home, waiting for him to come over, which he seems to think makes the delay harmless. If I’m already home relaxing, what has it cost me?
But being home doesn’t mean I haven’t been looking forward to seeing him. It doesn’t mean those hours feel the same once I’m expecting him. I can be in my own house and still feel let down by someone who keeps saying he’s on his way.
I’ve wondered whether he doesn’t care enough about me or respect my time. Then I remember that he’s late for everyone, and I try to be fair. I don’t have evidence that he’s singling me out. Still, knowing his friends get the same treatment doesn’t make a broken plan with me hurt less.
We’ve argued about this many times. He apologizes, but I haven’t heard a real willingness to change, and it keeps happening. That leaves me trying to work out what accepting him actually means. I could stop counting on his arrival and carry on with my plans, but I don’t know how to do that when the thing I want is time with him. Or when he’s the one offering to be there.
