Oh dear. Do you all remember that feeling after you send a text or an email to a newly (internally) declared prospective (or 'potenital' to adapt BTVS parlance). The 'I might just check my email again' game. Actually you may not remember it, for some of you coupled types it will have been a while. Just conjure that feeling of knowing it is silly and doing it anyway. I am an idiot (yes I am an idiot and I don't care!) - that kind of thing. There is a little lurch as you send the thing, a lurch and an escape - free, my words are free, watch them float away to have whatever effect they may have. Off they fly, they're on their own now, not my responsibility!
And when you do get a response, there is that little smile you get before you even open it to read the words. Like a neatly wrapped present that is full of promise. You look at it all shiny waiting for you to open and discover and digest it. And then you surreptitiously reread it. Not too often. Just a few, carefully impulsive, discrete times. And a few more. And then you feel silly and stop.