The issue is the not-knowing, the waiting, the dragging out of a situation that I don't even know why I'm in, the lack of a resolution - or rather, the lack of a resolution at my pace. It's not being resolved quickly enough. He's not replying fast enough, not making certain plans quickly enough, I don't know when I'm going to see him and I hate not knowing things.
Patience has never been a virtue of mine. But I am trying to force it upon myself. Sometimes it works, such as this morning, when I'd somehow managed to let go of, if only (and evidently now) momentarily, this anxiety that is produced not really by the person who's withholding information, but by the absence of information, period. It is about focusing the mind, I know. It is about being patient. It is about detaching yourself from the situation that is causing some degree of stress - and it is important to detach yourself from it because ultimately, this doesn't matter. There is nothing major riding on this. This is not an emergency; most dating situations aren't. So the anxiety is all in my head, the stress caused by some personality trait/defect of mine that needs to know, and needs to know now.
But why do I need to know? What possible meaningful impact would knowing - whatever this means - have on my life? This isn't a situation where I've dated the guy for 10 years and suddenly the relationship is on the ropes; this is a situation where I've dated the guy for two weeks and I'm trying to take back a particularly terrible text message. Would it really matter to me in the long run - or even the next week - if he never responds? Would it really matter if he responds, says 'Thursday can't work', and leave it at that? Why does he have all the power to get me to chill the fuck out?
Is it just Cambridge or is it me? I've never been so on edge before when I was dating in London, the Netherlands, Singapore. The smallness of my reality has exaggerated the significance of certain events, certain people, and certain absences, that wouldn't matter if I were, say, back in Singapore. But I am too old to blame others for my issues. I am too old not to take responsibility. So I will try to own this, this caring too much, and just...chill the fuck out.
Of course, his shitty communication is making me wonder if any of this is worth it; why am I waiting around for this guy to get back to me when I literally have a queue of men that I could go out with, when I could probably set up an impromptu meeting with someone when I go to London tomorrow (to watch Julius Caesar!)? But no, I will not meet anyone else until this thing is resolved. I need to have the moral high ground, right? Besides, despite the likely southwards direction in which this is headed, I'm not gonna deny that I like him. Not to mention: the fact that I am in this situation is my fault, and although there are limits to my patience and contrition, I am willing to stretch them for this guy. Maybe good things come to those who wait; or at least, one could certainly hope. So if he doesn't, or can't, or can't be arsed to, meet me halfway...then it's not really my loss, but his, isn't it?
Anyway. I am so tired right now and I have completely lost my train of thought, so I'm just gonna go to bed.