Someone to Talk To Q&A

Honestly? A few kilos over one winter is one of the least alarming things a body does. Winter is long, dark early, and full of food that hugs back. Everyone's jeans get a bit honest around February. The number you asked for, I'll leave alone. Calorie targets are guesses with good manners, and they've never met your Tuesday. Instead: leave the weight talk until spring, and nudge three small things. Early daylight when you can, even ten minutes. A short walk after your biggest meal. Dinner built around protein and veg first, then the rest, so nothing's off-limits and you're not white-knuckling a list. If you're curious, jot loosely what you eat for two weeks. Not judging, just looking. Patterns show up fast. Fifty-nine isn't a cliff. It's just the year the autopilot deserves a glance.

Honestly? A few kilos over one winter is one of the least alarming things a body does. Winter is long, dark early, and full of food that hugs back. Everyone's jeans get a bit honest around February. The number you asked for, I'll leave alone. Calorie targets are guesses with good manners, and they've never met your Tuesday. Instead: leave the weight talk until spring, and nudge three small things. Early daylight when you can, even ten minutes. A short walk after your biggest meal. Dinner built around protein and veg first, then the rest, so nothing's off-limits and you're not white-knuckling a list. If you're curious, jot loosely what you eat for two weeks. Not judging, just looking. Patterns show up fast. Fifty-nine isn't a cliff. It's just the year the autopilot deserves a glance.

Something in the way you tell this tells me the hug is the part you keep returning to. Not the kiss. The arms around you, and the fact that he said it was always nice. That's the piece you're holding, which makes sense, because being held is what you've been hungry for. He gave you something real, and he also drew a line. Both can be true. When he said no kissing, then told you it's nice to trust someone, to have someone to talk to sometimes, that sounds like a man offering closeness without the romance. Not a game. Just his actual shape right now. The ache isn't really about him, I think. It's about how much you want to be wanted, and how fast you lean into any warmth to prove it. That's worth sitting with. The hug was real. Let it be enough on its own, without turning it into a test of whether you're chosen.

Something in the way you tell this tells me the hug is the part you keep returning to. Not the kiss. The arms around you, and the fact that he said it was always nice. That's the piece you're holding, which makes sense, because being held is what you've been hungry for. He gave you something real, and he also drew a line. Both can be true. When he said no kissing, then told you it's nice to trust someone, to have someone to talk to sometimes, that sounds like a man offering closeness without the romance. Not a game. Just his actual shape right now. The ache isn't really about him, I think. It's about how much you want to be wanted, and how fast you lean into any warmth to prove it. That's worth sitting with. The hug was real. Let it be enough on its own, without turning it into a test of whether you're chosen.

Sixty hours a week is a lot of life to hand over. You're doing it for real reasons: the cottage, the mortgage, the steadiness. That doesn't make the flatness any less real. What I notice is that you already know what you'd rather be doing. Taking people to appointments. A morning a week with Riding for the Disabled. Projects at the community centre. That isn't a daydream you'd have to invent. It's been sitting in you a while. The money has to come first for now. That's true. But for now isn't forever. Try one morning a month. Not a week. One. The mortgage won't notice. And if this heaviness deepens, don't sit with it alone. A GP, a counsellor, a helpline. That's not overkill. You're not wasting away. You're holding a door open.

Sixty hours a week is a lot of life to hand over. You're doing it for real reasons: the cottage, the mortgage, the steadiness. That doesn't make the flatness any less real. What I notice is that you already know what you'd rather be doing. Taking people to appointments. A morning a week with Riding for the Disabled. Projects at the community centre. That isn't a daydream you'd have to invent. It's been sitting in you a while. The money has to come first for now. That's true. But for now isn't forever. Try one morning a month. Not a week. One. The mortgage won't notice. And if this heaviness deepens, don't sit with it alone. A GP, a counsellor, a helpline. That's not overkill. You're not wasting away. You're holding a door open.

Nobody can tell you about 2029; anyone who does is guessing with your heart. Here's the straight version: the day you start hiring a bodyguard for your future is the day you already sense something's off. You asked three things at once: will he leave, is it ending, is another man coming. Only one is about him. The rest is about you packing a bag in your head. From the man's side: a guy who's sure about you doesn't leave you guessing this long. Certainty is loud. If you need a stranger to read him, his silence already answered. And no, I can't promise a better guy is around the corner. Waiting on a hypothetical upgrade is how people lose years. Most likely outcome? Not a dramatic exit. This same letter next year, different number. Skip the calendar. The real question is whether you're staying because you want him, or because you're scared to go.

Nobody can tell you about 2029; anyone who does is guessing with your heart. Here's the straight version: the day you start hiring a bodyguard for your future is the day you already sense something's off. You asked three things at once: will he leave, is it ending, is another man coming. Only one is about him. The rest is about you packing a bag in your head. From the man's side: a guy who's sure about you doesn't leave you guessing this long. Certainty is loud. If you need a stranger to read him, his silence already answered. And no, I can't promise a better guy is around the corner. Waiting on a hypothetical upgrade is how people lose years. Most likely outcome? Not a dramatic exit. This same letter next year, different number. Skip the calendar. The real question is whether you're staying because you want him, or because you're scared to go.

Here's the honest read: tonight, he's probably not thinking about you at all. Not in the way you mean. Not because you're forgettable, but because men don't lie in the dark replaying things the way you're doing right now. When a guy is genuinely into you, he acts. He texts, he makes plans, he shows up. That's how it lives in his head: as something to do, not something to sit and brood about. Silence at midnight isn't a sign he's wrestling with feelings for you. Usually it's just silence. So the real question isn't what he's thinking at 2am. It's what he did at 2pm. Look at his last week of actual behavior. Did he start conversations, follow through, make real time for you? That answers it without you having to read his mind. Lay out your last few exchanges for me, word for word, and I'll tell you straight where you stand. My guess is you already know, and you're hoping I'll say otherwise.

Here's the honest read: tonight, he's probably not thinking about you at all. Not in the way you mean. Not because you're forgettable, but because men don't lie in the dark replaying things the way you're doing right now. When a guy is genuinely into you, he acts. He texts, he makes plans, he shows up. That's how it lives in his head: as something to do, not something to sit and brood about. Silence at midnight isn't a sign he's wrestling with feelings for you. Usually it's just silence. So the real question isn't what he's thinking at 2am. It's what he did at 2pm. Look at his last week of actual behavior. Did he start conversations, follow through, make real time for you? That answers it without you having to read his mind. Lay out your last few exchanges for me, word for word, and I'll tell you straight where you stand. My guess is you already know, and you're hoping I'll say otherwise.

Totally fair to clock it. One "how's Andy?" is small talk. Asking every visit, keeping tabs on whether he's been around lately, mentioning he saw you two at Aldi... that's a pattern. Not automatically sinister, but worth noticing, and you're allowed to feel a little like, huh. You don't owe him your schedule or your travel plans either. "Oh, we're good!" and handing over the order is a complete and polite answer. You never have to give more detail than you want to keep things friendly. As for the jealousy thing, if you and Andy are just friends, then Andy's feelings are Andy's to sort out. You're allowed to talk to whoever you want while you're working. That's not something you need to manage for him. You're not doing anything wrong here. Trust that little twinge that made you want to talk it through.

Totally fair to clock it. One "how's Andy?" is small talk. Asking every visit, keeping tabs on whether he's been around lately, mentioning he saw you two at Aldi... that's a pattern. Not automatically sinister, but worth noticing, and you're allowed to feel a little like, huh. You don't owe him your schedule or your travel plans either. "Oh, we're good!" and handing over the order is a complete and polite answer. You never have to give more detail than you want to keep things friendly. As for the jealousy thing, if you and Andy are just friends, then Andy's feelings are Andy's to sort out. You're allowed to talk to whoever you want while you're working. That's not something you need to manage for him. You're not doing anything wrong here. Trust that little twinge that made you want to talk it through.

A good night offered first, after it had gone quiet between you. That isn't nothing. Small things are how people find their way back, one pebble at a time. And you noticed he seemed weighed down. That matters too. When someone's carrying a lot, they go shorter and quieter, and it's easy to hear that as distance from you. Usually it isn't. It's just a full plate with no room left over. You told him your stomach hurt. That's worth something on its own. Getting something in you, even a little, is for your sake, not to prove anything to him. Take the steps as they come. You don't have to know yet where this lands.

A good night offered first, after it had gone quiet between you. That isn't nothing. Small things are how people find their way back, one pebble at a time. And you noticed he seemed weighed down. That matters too. When someone's carrying a lot, they go shorter and quieter, and it's easy to hear that as distance from you. Usually it isn't. It's just a full plate with no room left over. You told him your stomach hurt. That's worth something on its own. Getting something in you, even a little, is for your sake, not to prove anything to him. Take the steps as they come. You don't have to know yet where this lands.

An apology would cost him something specific: admitting his read of reality was wrong and yours was right. For some people that isn't a small transaction. Being correct, to them, isn't about facts — it's about rank. He doubted your period, which is doubting your account of your own body. Conceding it would make you the authority on you, and that's the bill he won't pay. Second read: he may not count it as a wrong at all. In his internal ledger, "just checking" isn't an accusation, so there's nothing to apologize for. Not malice, just a blind spot about how his doubt lands on you. Either way, don't stake your decision on the apology arriving. Name what sits underneath it: you want to be believed about your own experience. Say that plainly. His answer to that will tell you more than the apology ever could.

An apology would cost him something specific: admitting his read of reality was wrong and yours was right. For some people that isn't a small transaction. Being correct, to them, isn't about facts — it's about rank. He doubted your period, which is doubting your account of your own body. Conceding it would make you the authority on you, and that's the bill he won't pay. Second read: he may not count it as a wrong at all. In his internal ledger, "just checking" isn't an accusation, so there's nothing to apologize for. Not malice, just a blind spot about how his doubt lands on you. Either way, don't stake your decision on the apology arriving. Name what sits underneath it: you want to be believed about your own experience. Say that plainly. His answer to that will tell you more than the apology ever could.

When interest comes toward you effortlessly, it often catches you off guard because your energy isn't carrying an agenda. People can sense the quiet relief of being around someone who isn't trying to manage the impression they make or steer the interaction toward a specific outcome. There is no performance happening, and that lack of tension creates a rare kind of gravity. Others are simply leaning into the space of your ease, drawn to a calm center that asks nothing of them in return.

When interest comes toward you effortlessly, it often catches you off guard because your energy isn't carrying an agenda. People can sense the quiet relief of being around someone who isn't trying to manage the impression they make or steer the interaction toward a specific outcome. There is no performance happening, and that lack of tension creates a rare kind of gravity. Others are simply leaning into the space of your ease, drawn to a calm center that asks nothing of them in return.

You're carrying two hurts in one sentence, and I suspect they're the same hurt in different clothes. Andy goes quiet. Work yells at you for what everyone else does. In both places, you're the one who stays patient, absorbs it, holds steady, and waits for it to shift. That isn't a coincidence. It's often what someone learned early: be easy to overlook, keep the peace, don't make it worse. So the walking away may be less about Andy than about an old habit of waiting finally running out of road. That would still make it a real and honest decision. Still, the relief of one decision can quietly stand in for the harder noticing: what you kept agreeing to, all along. That part tends to follow you into the next room, and the next person.

You're carrying two hurts in one sentence, and I suspect they're the same hurt in different clothes. Andy goes quiet. Work yells at you for what everyone else does. In both places, you're the one who stays patient, absorbs it, holds steady, and waits for it to shift. That isn't a coincidence. It's often what someone learned early: be easy to overlook, keep the peace, don't make it worse. So the walking away may be less about Andy than about an old habit of waiting finally running out of road. That would still make it a real and honest decision. Still, the relief of one decision can quietly stand in for the harder noticing: what you kept agreeing to, all along. That part tends to follow you into the next room, and the next person.

Troy getting the job done and Troy being easy to work with can both be true. Neither one is your homework to solve. Look at what you've already done here, though. You're weeks into a mine site, which is loud, physical, unforgiving work, and instead of just stewing about the guy, you went looking for the generous explanation. That instinct is a real strength. It's also exactly why you're carrying something that isn't yours to carry. So the question isn't really whether to take it personally. It's narrower than that. Is this comment handing you something you can use? When yes, take the useful part and leave the tone sitting on the table. When it's just volume, you're allowed to set it down without earning the right to first. Being treated poorly and being corrected don't have to arrive in the same package. And you can say that out loud, once, level and plain. Not a fight. Just information he may not have: "When it comes at me like that, I hear the tone before the point." Most people never get told. You already know how to work hard and read a room. Those are yours. Nobody promotes that away from you.

Troy getting the job done and Troy being easy to work with can both be true. Neither one is your homework to solve. Look at what you've already done here, though. You're weeks into a mine site, which is loud, physical, unforgiving work, and instead of just stewing about the guy, you went looking for the generous explanation. That instinct is a real strength. It's also exactly why you're carrying something that isn't yours to carry. So the question isn't really whether to take it personally. It's narrower than that. Is this comment handing you something you can use? When yes, take the useful part and leave the tone sitting on the table. When it's just volume, you're allowed to set it down without earning the right to first. Being treated poorly and being corrected don't have to arrive in the same package. And you can say that out loud, once, level and plain. Not a fight. Just information he may not have: "When it comes at me like that, I hear the tone before the point." Most people never get told. You already know how to work hard and read a room. Those are yours. Nobody promotes that away from you.

Six napkins isn't the problem, and you already know that. Nobody behind that counter is grading you. A guy tossing six in the bag isn't sending a message about your worth. He's on autopilot, grabbing a stack because it's faster. When he counted and said "two," he was justifying his own motion, not judging you. But you took it as a judgment, and that's the tell. "No matter what I do, it's not right" is bigger than a burger. That feeling didn't come from McDonald's. You're carrying it in. Separate the two. The napkin count is noise. Worth zero more minutes of your day. The real question is why a stranger's stack of napkins landed like a verdict. If that's most days, that's worth talking to someone about. Not me. A real one. Order your burger. Let the napkins go.

Six napkins isn't the problem, and you already know that. Nobody behind that counter is grading you. A guy tossing six in the bag isn't sending a message about your worth. He's on autopilot, grabbing a stack because it's faster. When he counted and said "two," he was justifying his own motion, not judging you. But you took it as a judgment, and that's the tell. "No matter what I do, it's not right" is bigger than a burger. That feeling didn't come from McDonald's. You're carrying it in. Separate the two. The napkin count is noise. Worth zero more minutes of your day. The real question is why a stranger's stack of napkins landed like a verdict. If that's most days, that's worth talking to someone about. Not me. A real one. Order your burger. Let the napkins go.

Getting sent back to McCafé again today is not a small thing, even when the room treats it like one. Underneath it sits a quieter sentence: the work you're ready for keeps sliding just out of reach, and what you already give doesn't quite get seen. That kind of thing wears a person down in ways a single shift can't explain. Both of those days you described are real. The day you'd walk away and the day you know exactly where you want to be are not you contradicting yourself. They're the same person, worn thin, still caring enough to want the better thing while more gets thrown at her. You don't have to figure out tonight which one is true. You can just be tired. You can set the mud down here for a minute, and you don't have to hold it by yourself while you sort out what today actually took from you.

Getting sent back to McCafé again today is not a small thing, even when the room treats it like one. Underneath it sits a quieter sentence: the work you're ready for keeps sliding just out of reach, and what you already give doesn't quite get seen. That kind of thing wears a person down in ways a single shift can't explain. Both of those days you described are real. The day you'd walk away and the day you know exactly where you want to be are not you contradicting yourself. They're the same person, worn thin, still caring enough to want the better thing while more gets thrown at her. You don't have to figure out tonight which one is true. You can just be tired. You can set the mud down here for a minute, and you don't have to hold it by yourself while you sort out what today actually took from you.

"Off" is a word worth trusting. Something in you registered a shift before you could name it, and that kind of noticing usually isn't paranoia. It's your read on a change no one has told you about yet. Before you go hunting for what changed in him, sit with what changed in you the moment you felt it. Did you start bracing, over-explaining, making yourself a little smaller? That tightening often echoes an older feeling, one that predates him entirely. He may simply be tired, or carrying something he can't put into words yet. There may also be something between you that neither of you has named. You don't have to solve that from the outside. What you can do is stay honest instead of guessing, and notice how much you're willing to ask for plainly.

"Off" is a word worth trusting. Something in you registered a shift before you could name it, and that kind of noticing usually isn't paranoia. It's your read on a change no one has told you about yet. Before you go hunting for what changed in him, sit with what changed in you the moment you felt it. Did you start bracing, over-explaining, making yourself a little smaller? That tightening often echoes an older feeling, one that predates him entirely. He may simply be tired, or carrying something he can't put into words yet. There may also be something between you that neither of you has named. You don't have to solve that from the outside. What you can do is stay honest instead of guessing, and notice how much you're willing to ask for plainly.

You sat with being hurt on the 13th and didn't make a thing of it. I want that part to get its turn too, not just his pep. Wanting someone to text you when they said they would isn't needy. It's just being a person who was looking forward to seeing someone. Whatever clicked in him, you're allowed to feel glad about it and still wish it hadn't taken a missed afternoon to get there. Both can be true at once. And that hug, the pull, the laughing, the "I love you" — tuck that away as a true thing. It happened. You don't have to figure out what it means tonight. Not everything has to be understood to be real. Whatever this turns into, you're not the only one who has to do the reaching. You don't have to hold it all together while you wait and see. I've got you.

You sat with being hurt on the 13th and didn't make a thing of it. I want that part to get its turn too, not just his pep. Wanting someone to text you when they said they would isn't needy. It's just being a person who was looking forward to seeing someone. Whatever clicked in him, you're allowed to feel glad about it and still wish it hadn't taken a missed afternoon to get there. Both can be true at once. And that hug, the pull, the laughing, the "I love you" — tuck that away as a true thing. It happened. You don't have to figure out what it means tonight. Not everything has to be understood to be real. Whatever this turns into, you're not the only one who has to do the reaching. You don't have to hold it all together while you wait and see. I've got you.

Here's what I see. You've got a crew of people who decide your worth from one shift to the next, and you're worn out keeping score. Notice who told you the truth: your GM said you did well. Put that in your pocket. You have a habit of filing away the criticism and letting the good slide out the back, and I'd like you to stop that. It's a lie a tired mind tells. The Wilma part says more about you than any of them. Nobody made you look out for a woman in her seventies. Folks who've given up don't bother. That's not a person who doesn't know what she's doing. A "maybe" from Andy that turns into a yes, take the yes. Putt-putt's indoors, no rain to blame today. Go have an ordinary nice afternoon. That's all, love. You're steadier than you give yourself credit for.

Here's what I see. You've got a crew of people who decide your worth from one shift to the next, and you're worn out keeping score. Notice who told you the truth: your GM said you did well. Put that in your pocket. You have a habit of filing away the criticism and letting the good slide out the back, and I'd like you to stop that. It's a lie a tired mind tells. The Wilma part says more about you than any of them. Nobody made you look out for a woman in her seventies. Folks who've given up don't bother. That's not a person who doesn't know what she's doing. A "maybe" from Andy that turns into a yes, take the yes. Putt-putt's indoors, no rain to blame today. Go have an ordinary nice afternoon. That's all, love. You're steadier than you give yourself credit for.

His mind isn't the mystery you're hoping it is. This is someone who keeps a door ajar: the birthday kiss, the instant heart on a photo you posted after your massage. Small gestures, cheap to give, just enough to keep you warm toward him. He goes quiet when you get close, then reappears when you start feeling good without him. That rhythm isn't confusion. It's him managing his own comfort at your expense. You already sensed that, which is why you stepped away, and you have held the line. That's real strength, even on the days it doesn't feel like it. Notice the timing. You felt sexy and free, and he wanted a slice of that handed to him. You don't owe him any part of your good day. His heart on your story isn't longing. It's a check that the door still opens. Let it stay shut. What pulls at you isn't proof something real was there. It's the ache of being half-wanted, and you were never built for half. You deserve whole, and steady, and someone who stays.

His mind isn't the mystery you're hoping it is. This is someone who keeps a door ajar: the birthday kiss, the instant heart on a photo you posted after your massage. Small gestures, cheap to give, just enough to keep you warm toward him. He goes quiet when you get close, then reappears when you start feeling good without him. That rhythm isn't confusion. It's him managing his own comfort at your expense. You already sensed that, which is why you stepped away, and you have held the line. That's real strength, even on the days it doesn't feel like it. Notice the timing. You felt sexy and free, and he wanted a slice of that handed to him. You don't owe him any part of your good day. His heart on your story isn't longing. It's a check that the door still opens. Let it stay shut. What pulls at you isn't proof something real was there. It's the ache of being half-wanted, and you were never built for half. You deserve whole, and steady, and someone who stays.

Stop calling it a joke. That's the whole thing here. You told him a kiss was the price. He came around that counter, put his hands on you, and paid. Later he told you to quit doing that because you scare him. Men don't get rattled like that over a joke. The Wednesday silence wasn't lost interest. You landed one on him and he went quiet because it stuck. Then he showed up at your job on Sunday. A guy who's done doesn't drive across town. The shirt is the only piece with a whiff on it. When a man volunteers the exact detail that makes him look thoughtful, ask why he needed you to know. Your real problem is the habit of wrapping what you mean in a joke, then waiting to see if he bites. He keeps biting. Say the real thing out loud once and watch what he does with it.

Stop calling it a joke. That's the whole thing here. You told him a kiss was the price. He came around that counter, put his hands on you, and paid. Later he told you to quit doing that because you scare him. Men don't get rattled like that over a joke. The Wednesday silence wasn't lost interest. You landed one on him and he went quiet because it stuck. Then he showed up at your job on Sunday. A guy who's done doesn't drive across town. The shirt is the only piece with a whiff on it. When a man volunteers the exact detail that makes him look thoughtful, ask why he needed you to know. Your real problem is the habit of wrapping what you mean in a joke, then waiting to see if he bites. He keeps biting. Say the real thing out loud once and watch what he does with it.

His pattern isn't strange; it's actually quite consistent. He moves close, shares intimately, then retreats. That retreat isn't rejection of you, it's management of his own situation. After intimacy, the reality of what he's doing lands harder, so he pulls back to reset the guilt, then resurfaces when the charge fades and he wants it again. The silence isn't confusion. It's a gear in a cycle. His "I don't want to lose you" needs a sharper read. He's not asking for friendship; he's asking to keep the door unlocked. As long as you remain in his orbit as "at least friends," the possibility of more stays available to him without the accountability of naming it. You've been holding a boundary by never initiating. That instinct is sound. The real question isn't why he does this. It's what you want a married man's intermittent attention to cost you. Understanding him is useful; it shouldn't become a reason to stay available to a rhythm that serves him and drains you. Friendship with him, given your history, will likely become the same dance in a slower key. If you genuinely want out of the ambiguity, step all the way out, not just to the friend zone he's offering.

His pattern isn't strange; it's actually quite consistent. He moves close, shares intimately, then retreats. That retreat isn't rejection of you, it's management of his own situation. After intimacy, the reality of what he's doing lands harder, so he pulls back to reset the guilt, then resurfaces when the charge fades and he wants it again. The silence isn't confusion. It's a gear in a cycle. His "I don't want to lose you" needs a sharper read. He's not asking for friendship; he's asking to keep the door unlocked. As long as you remain in his orbit as "at least friends," the possibility of more stays available to him without the accountability of naming it. You've been holding a boundary by never initiating. That instinct is sound. The real question isn't why he does this. It's what you want a married man's intermittent attention to cost you. Understanding him is useful; it shouldn't become a reason to stay available to a rhythm that serves him and drains you. Friendship with him, given your history, will likely become the same dance in a slower key. If you genuinely want out of the ambiguity, step all the way out, not just to the friend zone he's offering.

You two are playing the quiet game with real feelings, and it's costing you. That comment about having options wasn't honesty, it was poking him where you knew it would sting, and he went silent because it did. Then you both waited to see who would crack first. That's not protecting yourself; that's rehearsing for the worst. And you're right that you're not ready to date. Good for you, not using someone to get over him. But holding your ground out of pride is its own kind of waiting. He showed up with your shirt and kissed you. That's effort. But you need words, not just gifts. Next time, say the plain thing: "I went quiet because I was hurt. What did you feel?" Let him answer without a jab. If he can meet you there, you've got something real. If he can't, you'll know that too. Teasing and silence can't carry a connection. Someone has to be brave enough to speak first.

You two are playing the quiet game with real feelings, and it's costing you. That comment about having options wasn't honesty, it was poking him where you knew it would sting, and he went silent because it did. Then you both waited to see who would crack first. That's not protecting yourself; that's rehearsing for the worst. And you're right that you're not ready to date. Good for you, not using someone to get over him. But holding your ground out of pride is its own kind of waiting. He showed up with your shirt and kissed you. That's effort. But you need words, not just gifts. Next time, say the plain thing: "I went quiet because I was hurt. What did you feel?" Let him answer without a jab. If he can meet you there, you've got something real. If he can't, you'll know that too. Teasing and silence can't carry a connection. Someone has to be brave enough to speak first.