You are going away for two weeks at Christmas. You ask if he wants your parent’s number, in case he might want to call. He says it’s only two weeks.
He doesn’t have your number, so he doesn’t call you on Christmas Day to wish you Happy Christmas.
He takes you out to San Francisco for the entire day, and you walk around looking at stuff and talking and getting used to each other after the two-week break and you’re just happy to see him and you want to hold his hand and touch his face and he tells you later that he doesn’t do public displays of affection.
You have to ask if you’re invited to Tahoe for SuperBowl weekend.
You don’t win the random points-ratio-square for the SuperBowl game thing.
When he brings you flowers a week before Valentine’s Day, he says he doesn’t really do Valentine’s Day.
He makes plans for the weekend and doesn’t invite you. And if he does invite you, you sense it’s more out of duty than desire.
You don’t have pictures of the two of you doing anything together. You realize you don’t do much together.
You don’t really feel part of his life–let alone invited into it.
He doesn’t really tell his parents he has a girlfriend. His brother does.
He tells you he doesn’t have those feelings for you and he just wants to be your friend.
And you wish he’d told you that before you went to all the effort to embarrass him and make him feel special on Valentine’s Day.
Fool.