Wherein there lies a problem

MNBF continues the tale . . .

"The squirrels have concerns."
That's what his text said. It was just about 24 hours after he asked me to go to the reunion. I was sitting at my desk at work.
Earlier that day I had a conversation with my co-worker/friend:
Me: You know those texts I've been getting every morning?
Her: Yes. Are you still getting them?
Me: Yes. And I'm okay with it. Really okay with it. (Picture huge smile on my face as I am saying this.)
Did I also mention that I started playing music in my office again. Oh, yeah! And I was singing all the time! The two young ladies in the front office didn't know what to make of it. They started after I lost Gary. They didn't know that there used to be music all the time. But let's get back to the concerned squirrels.
I'm pretty sure he texted me first. I know there was something about the carefree life of a cat (Sebastian, of course). I said something about cats not having any real concerns. He responded with, "The squirrels have concerns."
The ground dropped out from under me. My heart sank to my toes and my stomach turned a few somersaults as it went by. I started to shake.
You see, the written word only accounts for about 5% of communication. Tone of voice and facial expression provide the other 95%. Texting provides only that 5%. I could not hear his voice or see his face. The other 95% was being provided by my imagination and at that point my imagination had hijacked all reasonable thought.
What I heard, with the help of my imagination, was that he was having second thoughts about having asked me to the reunion. He wanted out of the deal. I made an excuse to the office staff and said I hadn't eaten (true) and was shaky (true) and needed to go get food (like I was going to be able to eat!)
I got in the car and started down the road. Two signal lights later I realized I had no idea where I was going. I made a couple turns and ended up at Applebee's. I needed to sit and think and a little food wouldn't hurt.
Why had this affected me so much? What was happening to me? This couldn't be resolved by text. But a phone call was out of the question - we hadn't actually talked and I was pretty sure I couldn't put together a coherent sentence. So I began to compose an email. Yes, it's still just words. But it can be complete sentences and paragraphs and it isn't delivered quite as instantaneously.
I spent an hour beginning to put my feelings into words before I was called back to reality with a meeting reminder. I spent another three hours that evening rereading and revising and rereading and revising and revising and rereading. While I did that we were texting. All seemed normal but I felt anything but normal.
It was 11:30 before I sent the email. No, I didn't sleep much that night.

Yours truly was oblivious.

more to come