Decide what you want and then be there. Do that.
That, fellas, is it. The nugget of truth. You are no longer permitted to use the "you don't understand women" excuse. Because this is all we want. There is no elusive laundry list of hurdles to clear or lambs to sacrifice at our feet. We're very simple creatures, really.
Man up and state your business. That is all we ask.
I've spent the past week awaiting a clue (any clue) from The Gentleman In Question as to his present intentions. He missed the deadline by twelve hours and now I'm more than contemplating letting him get away with it. What right have I, after all, to set such stringent ultimatums—that is, if I consistently refuse to risk rejection by asking for what I want in the first place?
Proceed with caution, my little heart whines—eyes wide shut. Because you like this man. He talks to you about books and art and does that delicious thing with the nape of your neck . . . He's just different enough to be worth the bother of confusion a little while longer. Right?
I'm not trying to save this one (minor victory: I did learn that much from Peter Pan), but still my curiosity bests me. So perhaps I will ignore the many-headed Voice of Reason after all and do what I've always done. . . which is to say—learn the hard way.