"Technically committed, emotionally searching" isn’t always a flirtation—it’s a quiet confession. And when a person states their status with intention, you learn quickly that what’s available isn’t just their time. It’s his loneliness, his longing… and sometimes, your own heartbreak.
Another week passes. Another weekend without seeing him.
I had told him I wanted time. He agreed—the weekend would be great, he said. But the days came and went, and nothing happened. The silence was louder than ever.
There was a time when my bed missed me. These days, I think it’s tired of me.
I asked him once how often he truly intended to give me my medicine—his sweet code for our time together. Weekly? Biweekly? Monthly? Because let’s be honest: we make time for who we want to be with. And if the frequency is left vague, then the intention is too.
Since I started driving myself to see him, he no longer picks me up. And I realize now—I loved being picked up. I loved the ritual of being carried away to his space and returned in the still morning. It made me feel wanted. Desired. Chosen. But those days are gone. I hate this new version of us.
One night, he played Isaac Hayes—those deep, soulful melodies that wrap around your ribs and squeeze. It made me feel something tender. Comforted. Special.
Another night, he sent me a video of Nelson Mandela’s widow speaking about the man behind the myth. I told him, “I get that. I know that version of you too.”
But then came the weekend again—Friday… Saturday… silence.
To make it worse, I saw an image of his ex-lover that day—tagged in a recent, intimate photo with him on a local professional council’s social media page. The photo was from a function I wasn't at, and his smile in it was wide. The image of them together, and him not reaching out to me? It rattled me.
They share council roles, so I’ve always known they’re still in touch. That’s not the issue. But her tagged there, and me nowhere in his timeline? That was the issue.
She had him for almost a decade. And in the back of my mind, I wonder… Is she still holding on? Is he?
He once told me her body language showed she missed him. I didn’t ask what he did with that information.
I know he doesn’t owe me answers. But I am involved. And if I’m not the only one in this delicate space… I want the dignity of choosing whether to stay or walk away.
Because when we are together, it’s so damn good. The vibe. The conversation. The kisses. The way I feel seen and held in his presence—it’s intoxicating. It makes everything else melt away. In those moments, I don’t share him with anyone.
But those moments are getting further apart. And the questions in my heart are getting louder.
🔻 Reflection on the Arrangement
You can’t call something casual when your body knows the difference. You can’t call something simple when your soul is making space for it.
But here’s what they don’t tell you about loving someone who is committed but secretly seeking: You end up standing in the hallway of someone else’s life, hoping they open a door for you. And sometimes, they don’t.
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