Personal correspondence lacking actionable investigative leads

emotional signals -- so tried inviting Richard for dinner, and he didn't answer my text messages. When I finally ran into Richard, I asked why he'd been ignoring me, and he laughed. "I knew you'd accuse me of ignoring you," he said. I felt like I'd walked into a trap. I was hurt, obviously. I was surprised by how hurt I was. The problem with my youthful water metaphor is that water is basically invulnerable, but I am not... and when I was younger and more open, I had much more trouble setting important boundaries. On the other hand, I had to admit that it was funny, too. I mean, it wasn't like I didn't see this coming. I mean, my coming-out story includes a portrait of Richard at his most difficult. One of the friends I share with Richard made a comment about leopards and spots. Maybe my life is a soap opera, but it could also be a sitcom with the most amazing characterization ever. I enlisted a cold, brilliant, evil-hearted friend to help draft my final letter to Richard. The letter was very short. Arguably, it was brutal. It read: Economists recognize that the most robust relationships are formed through a plethora of implicit agreements. Apparently, these agreements are not present, and probably won't be. Cheers. Economics arguments in the comments are encouraged. More importantly, readers may feel free to steal that letter for use on whoever is trying to pull their chain. te Ok ok I received a couple texts from Mr. Ambition, a few days after he gave me the fan. He said there had been a death in his family. "But I don't want to talk about that, actually,” he wrote. "I just want to check in and see how you're doing.” I thought about how he laughed when he was hurt. I thought about how he'd once told me that he wanted drama. I thought about his confusing reactions to S&M. I thought about how he outsourced his emotional labor to his friends. I thought about all the emotion I'd felt in him, coiled and caught and turned in on itself like a caged dragon. I wondered if he wanted me to push him to talk. "I'm so sorry," I texted back. "But I understand if you don't want to talk about it. I'm doing fine.” He invited me to a social event a week later, but I declined. I didn't reach out to him for a while after that, and he didn't reach out to me. I heard later that Mr. Ambition asked one of my friends whether they thought he owed me anything. My friend told him, quite accurately: "No, you don't owe her anything." If anything, I owe him. I'm not sure what I owe him, but I'm sure I owe him something. A billion dollars? Vegan smoothies? Chemistry? HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018631