Every morning, I send her a good-morning text. She says she looks forward to it, and usually she sends one back. It’s a small routine, but after everything we’ve been through, I like having something that feels straightforward.
Then there are the mornings when I don’t hear back. By almost the end of the day, a message finally arrives: “OMG! I thought I responded to you!”
I’m 50. She’s 42. We started dating over a year ago, then ended things after the holidays because the relationship was getting too serious. Three weeks later, we were back in each other’s lives, this time in a situationship that lasted six months.
She ended that arrangement because she felt we were too old to be doing it. We’ve never been especially good at talking about our feelings for each other, which probably helps explain how we managed to spend so much time together without settling what we were doing.
That break lasted three weeks, too. Eventually, we had some deep conversations about having an actual relationship. Now we’re dating again.
For a couple of days, the communication can be wonderful. The conversation might be serious, casual, or flirtatious; whatever the subject, she’s engaged. Then comes a day or two when she’s barely there.
She works two and a half jobs. I respect how busy she is, and I’m not expecting us to text through the workday. Usually, we give each other space to work and talk in the evenings. What catches me is the inconsistency—and the explanation that she thought she’d already replied.
I’ve only been dating in the smartphone era for a few years. I know I become anxious around her, and I recognize myself in the anxious-preoccupied attachment description. Still, I struggle to understand how someone forgets whether they answered a message they say they enjoy receiving.
I can already hear the suggestion to talk to her. We’ve finally managed some honest conversations, so I know it’s possible. Finding the words for this particular one feels harder.
When that late reply arrives, I’m glad to hear from her. I’m also still wondering what happened to the morning.
