I have met you before. You are the man who can never say yes to anything past the next week. You like the idea of a summer vacation, when you’re snowed in in January, but you’ll never commit. You will speak of it in vague terms, ending any ideas with “yeah, we should totally do that”, but never mention it again.
Perhaps you are so busy, perhaps you are run off your feet with work and various other commitments and you really simply do not have the ability to plan far in advance. And that would be fair enough, if you were ever willing to mention this. The fact that you do not, my dear man that I have met, leads me to believe that you are busy, yes, and unwilling to commit. The idea of commitment frightens you.
You probably rent a cozy flat in a nice city, where you can be busy with a host of interesting things, trying interesting restaurants and meeting interesting people. You don’t spend much time at home, and it shows when I arrive. At first I thought it was cute, minimalistic. Now I wonder what it really means.
If you live in a city with good transit and mild winters, you have a bike. If you live in a city with bad transit and harsh winters, you have a car. Both are used, second hand. Both are decent models, not that old but good sturdy modes of transportation that you can rely on. You wouldn’t have bought them new, you would have let someone else do the initial commitment and tell you how it went. It allows you a bit of certainty, even if it does need a bit of TLC.
You probably have a tattoo, on the shoulder blades or on your tricep. Something to show that you’re manly but nothing that is always shown. Even this permanence is hidden.
Perhaps you really are just busy, I try to tell myself. But then again, I did meet you on a dating site.