The Waiting Game

This is what goes through my mind after three days of silence from someone I'm interested in:

Huh. Nothing. Maybe he lost his phone. Or maybe something happened to him. Or maybe he hates me. Huh. I'm sure everything is fine and he just lost the phone. That's gotta be it. I haven't done anything so he can't hate me. And I'm sure he's fine. He's fine, right? God, I hope he's ok. Whatever, I'm just being paranoid. Everything is fine and he'll call. We had a great time last week and I'm sure he'll call. I still have the sweatshirt he lent me so he has to call at some point to get it back. Unless he hates me. In which case, a sweatshirt is a small price to pay for not having to talk to me again. Hell, maybe he was abducted by aliens. That makes as much sense as hating me. Ok, get it together. He doesn't hate me. He's just busy or his phone is lost or dead or something silly like that. I'm sure that's it. Ok. Breathe.