She was right. We’d been texting back and forth. We’d never work out, I said, we’re too stubborn, too uncompromising.

It started when I asked her how her night went. You mean the one 6-months ago? I hand’t replied in 6-months. Yeah. It’s amazing how 6-months can go by and then all of a sudden a memory pops up, causes you to think of the past and your train of thought completely derails itself.

She’d graduated.

We should celebrate.

How?

Thursday night. Let’s go out.

You’re a month too late. I’m dating someone. And I’ve got a strict 1 person at a time dating rule.

Ahhh. This feeling again. I’ve felt it before. Some people experience FOMO (fear of missing out). I don’t. POMO is better (pleasure of missing out). I respected her ethics though.

She kept going.

But it’s not a relationship.

The chink in her armour appears. A glimmer of hope. Hope is a dangerous thing. People have made lots of money selling hope.

I asked for her passport number. She said I’m not giving away that information. Smart. In my head she was supposed to ask why. Then I’d say, I’m buying us tickets to Paris.

I said it anyway.

I hate Paris.

Fuck.

I had it all planned out. We’d go to Paris. Explore. Eat, sit at the cafes, walk the streets, go to the places people go to. It’d make for a great story. Remember the time I said I was buying us tickets to Paris then we went two days later and lived happily ever after. Even if it didn’t work out it’d make a great story. Remember the time I said I’d buy us tickets to Paris, you said you hated Paris but I bought them anyway and we got there and then figured out we were too stubborn for each other and decided to do our own thing. I don’t know which one I’d prefer to read. Probably the latter.

Let’s not forget though. She was right.

I think you just like the challenge.

She got me. My chink in the armour. The chase is far more fun than the finish line. When a hare runs away from a gazelle it has no idea where it’s going to jump to next. If it knew the gazelle could figure it out and the hare would be done for.

I’m like the gazelle. Working things out as they come. If I knew she’d say yes, I’d have stopped messaging her months ago. Except here I am. A new decade, still chasing.