Mr. Unavailable #100: Letting it Play Out, Part 2

See Mr. Unavailable #100, Update, Revisited, Down the Rabbit Hole, The Sound of Silence, I Can See Clearly Now the Rain is Gone, Anthropological Experimentation and Letting it Play Out, Part 1 for the background on this one.

Update: Two days after #100 said he'd call me to "hang out this weekend" and didn't, I got this text--on that Saturday night:

#100: I have a deadline Tuesday and I'm not as far ahead as I wanted to be. i think going to have to cancel. Let try after Tuesday.

My first reaction was to laugh, "Cancel what?!" The next day, after wrestling over whether or not I was done yet, I decided I wasn't and wrote back: Aw, good luck. How about Friday? Don't work too hard.

The next night I got this text:
#100: Come hurry meet me out.
Me: R u on fire?
#100: Yes no but yes. Can u come.
My dreams of another real date with #33 forever dashed, I replied: Yes I can come. Where?
#100: :$ sweet paradise. Orchard and cannal.

I walked into Sweet Paradise and, not to be overly melodramatic but, I saw into the heart of Mr. Unavailable darkness. Indeed, The Horror. The Horror. It is a very. lonely. place. He was talking to the bartender, half-drunk and alone. As if it weren't clear enough to me already, he made it plain: "We should just be friends. It's easier that way." The read on that, of course, was "friends with benefits." I stifled my insult-reflex by reminding myself that I already knew this was what it was all about.

Back at his place, I thought we'd immediately get busy. (He propositioned me at the bar with questions like, "Wanna make out and mate?") Instead, he surprised me by telling me all about the project he was working on. He showed me pictures, asked my opinion, seemed interested in what I had to say. It was sweetly self-absorbed and reinforced the aura of loneliness. I stayed over and played the part of the anti-girlfriend, letting him come to me, and he did. It was funny because he didn't want me to leave in the middle of the night, but, the next morning when I did leave, he couldn't even look at me. It served to put the finishing touch on the message being laid out: There was nothing here for me.

Diagnosis: For him: I feel truly sad for him. I can see his potential. He has a sweetness about him, but because he's so afraid (of rejection, of having to make an effort, of having to take a risk, of having to reveal his true self whatever that is, who knows), he buries it beneath a hipster facade.
For me: Of course, this is what I'm attracted to, which is worrying. But at least I can see it.

In the meantime, there are a few more potential Mr. Unavailables on the horizon that need looking into as well as the return of Mr. Unavailable #95.5. Stay tuned...