It was late evening. Having decided to be direct and to tackle issues head-on, I called The Ex, who I wanted back. So I said I liked her somewhat strongly and if she liked me back, then we could find a way. (Blame it on my indoctrinating myself in the dogma of bachelor lifestyle.)
She said "I'll get back to you on that one."
Ingenious.
Such chase-prolonging tactics happened to be familiar to both of us. We had spent the greater part of our first two years playing them in an alternating "Tag" format. Now you chase, now you evade. If cornered, neither confirm nor deny anything at all. Eventually there was some confusion in turns, and we both chased after each other. Looking back, it had been a big drain on time and energy, besides being a tax on the emotions. Just the thought of another round of cops and robbers, with me starting as the cop, was enough to kill morale.
However, I wasn't going to spend time waiting to be "got back to on that one." I know her well.
Shortly after I'd given up on strategizing battlefield romance formations, and dozed off, Sister of The Ex texted me.
"I shouldn't be telling you this - but those James Bond/Rambo methods of yours will not do it!!! Romeo up."
Privileged information! I replied: "I can't believe you two are gossiping about me :) Outrageous :) So now I sing ballads?"
Sister of The Ex: "Use your imagination! I don't know what she means!!!"
I laughed. Maybe it was my sudden appearance from a tree. Rambo methods indeed.
And now I had a spy too. OR a double agent.
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