Nothing.

Sunday and Monday I struggle through wanting to scream at him, run to him and just plain give up.  He’s not replying.  And the little girl in me is shouting, “Because he doesn’t like you!!”  And the big girl in me is wondering why he’d put the effort in that he did the week before. 

He could have left if on Sunday.  We could have let it be what it was, an amazing night together.  But we both knew this isn’t what it was supposed to be.  You don’t have nights like that… and march on, pretending they didn’t happen. 

He told me he liked me.  That he wanted to be with me.  Wished he was laying next to me, could kiss or hug me.  That he missed me and that he reaaaaaallly wanted to see me.  That he wanted to come to Austin again. These are things I can see... they're still on my phone.  I re-read these texts over and over... just to make sure I didn't make it up in my head.  

With everything that’s in me, I can’t believe that these things aren’t true.  But I wonder why the silence now. 

I’m faced with the tough reality that I don’t know his contact information after he leaves on Wednesday – I decide that I’m going to be authentic Anna.  And if authentic Anna wants to talk to you, damnit, she will.

I send a text Monday night: “Did you get all caught up on your beauty sleep?  How was your day?  I miss chatting with you… ik denk mijn Nederlands is roestige krrijgst – and I realized I don’t have your contact info after the Dutch army takes you back home.  We should do something about that.  Bc you’re cool.  I’m cool.  And cool people should stay in touch.”

Nothing.