After Mr. Agency and I discussed what worked for both of us, I had thought that we had agreed to spend one night a week together. I didn’t realize until after we started tearing each other’s clothes off that one night a week didn’t involve him actually staying over my place.

Since we had started spending time together back in August, Mr. Agency had always come over my apartment late at night and slept over. That held true for a month before we had sex and during times when I was too sick from chemotherapy to have sex. At this point in our "relationship," I needed consistency from Mr. Agency, not further confusion.

Me: Umm…no. That doesn’t work for me.

Mr. Agency: I should’ve thought about this before, but I didn’t know how our conversation was going to go. If I had, I would’ve brought work to do.

Me: Well, you can go now to get your work. Or, you can leave early in the morning. But, if we’re having sex, you’re spending the night.

Mr. Agency [pausing]: Okay.

Me: If I’m only going to see you one night a week, you need to be sleeping over. I don't think I'm asking for a lot here. I’m understanding if you don’t get done with work until 2 or 3 in the morning, but you need to be understanding of my needs, too.

Mr. Agency: Okay. [He kisses me.] I’ll stay.

Me: Thank you. [Pause.] And this arrangement works for you then?

Mr. Agency: Yes.

We resumed our regular scheduled programming of great sex…and more great sex. We didn’t sleep more than four hours that night, and I was perfectly content with that. In the morning, he kissed me goodbye. We briefly talked about his schedule that week, and he mentioned that he should be able to come over one night the following week.

During the week, we texted regularly per usual. The following Sunday (one week from when I had seen him last), I texted him after we exchanged our usual pleasantries:

When will I get to see you next?

Mr. Agency: Hopefully I will get to see you soon. Hopefully at some point next week.

I was thoroughly confused, although not necessarily surprised.

Me: Umm…after our conversation last week, I had thought we had found a decent compromise. Guess I was wrong…

Mr. Agency: Well, I didn’t look at our conversation like we came up with a definitive solution. I looked at it as we were talking about the perspective each other is coming from.

Me: Not really sure what to say…especially via text. Know you have a lot on your plate so I guess I’ll ask you to call me when it’s convenient for you.

Mr. Agency: Okay. Sounds good.

In the midst of texting Mr. Agency, I texted one of our mutual friends. She was also not that surprised by my latest exchange with Mr. Agency, commenting that she thought that he wanted to be there more for me than he could.

Friend: Judge his actions, not his words.

Me: That’s what I’m finally doing. His words might indicate that he cares about me, but his actions show that he doesn’t care about anyone other than himself. That’s why I didn’t pick up the phone to call him. At a certain point, it’s not worth it.

Friend: But he’ll call you back soon, right?

Me: I’m betting I’ll hear from him in two to three days. Work always comes first with Mr. Agency. I just need to focus on feeling stronger and moving on from him.

In a three-week period, Mr. Agency reneged on our agreement, Philly Matt forgot that he had offered to come down to help me out with one of my rounds of chemotherapy, and Best Boy didn’t wish me a Merry Christmas. I was physically and emotionally exhausted from the roughest month for me health-wise, and the actions of these three men – or rather, their inactions – just added insult to injury.

To quote the Counting Crows, it was a long December.