• Give a Gift
  • Customer Service
  • Promotions
  • Videos
  • Blogs
  • Win
  • Games

Dying to Hear Back From Him?

Dying to Hear Back From Him?


As regular readers know, I'm working on a book about what classic novels can teach you about love. As regular readers also know, I think Jane Austen is so over-rated — but I felt like it was necessary to force myself to get through at least one of her novels for my book.

I went with Sense and Sensibility. And although I did find, at the beginning of the story, that it was hard for me to care about the spoiled, prissy characters, and that, as usual, I didn't think Jane Austen's writing was particularly insightful or elegant or funny, I eventually got sucked in. It's a quick, easy read — and every night, it was hard for me to put the book down and go to bed, because I so much wanted to know what would happen next.

One of the things that makes Austen's stories so appealing is that even though dating has changed so much since when she was writing, it's also stayed very much the same.

For instance, I was struck by a chapter in which one of the main characters, Marianne, blows into London with her sister and some friends. The guy she has the hots for, a bloke named Willoughby, happens to be visiting the city, too, so she writes him a letter, announcing her unexpected presence in town … and sends it off with her footman. Then she and her companions have some lunch, and their meal has scarcely finished before she is "anxiously listening to the sound of every carriage," hoping the footman has returned with a response from Willoughby.

Later that afternoon, Marianne is still waiting. She had already "been disappointed more than once by a rap at a neighboring door, when a loud one was suddenly heard, which could not be mistaken ... Elinor, Marianne's sister, felt secure announcing Willoughby's approach, and Marianne moved towards the door …."

But it's another friend, and not Willoughby.

The next day, Marianne and her pals go into London town — and everywhere, she is on the look-out, hoping she might bump into ol' Willoughby. But she has no such luck.

So after they return home, "Marianne flew up the stairs" to find out if a messenger had come by with a response from him.

No dice.

That evening, poor Marianne "was of no use … the [night] … was spent in all the anxiety of expectation and the pain of disappointment. She sometimes endeavored for a few minutes to read; but the book was soon thrown aside, and she returned to the more interesting employment of walking backwards and forwards across the room, pausing for a moment whenever she came to the window, in hopes of distinguishing the long-expected rap."

Marianne! I've so been there. Completely unable to concentrate on anything, jumping at every small sound, wondering when the hell I will hear. And I've had the thought that email — the constant refreshing to see whether he might have sent you a note in the last three minutes since you've checked — has made the anxiety at least a thousand times worse than it must have been before the dawn of the Interwebs.

But Jane Austen tells us that, nope, even before instant messenger, before texting, before clickable computer screen inboxes, women were living in agony as they waited to hear from some jerk.

Here's the question: How do you guys deal with it when you're completely distracted by the question: When will I ever hear from him? I've always found it very difficult to distract myself — and to focus on anything else!

I will also say that one of the many things I really liked about Mr. Cup-of-Tea is that he was always very responsive to all of my messages. I never made myself sick waiting to hear from him ... because I never had to wait long.

Connect with Marie Claire:
daily giveaway
One winner will receive a year’s supply of makeup products from Lancôme ($389) and a year’s supply of hair products from Garnier Fructis ($90), as selected by the Sponsors.

One winner will receive a year’s supply of makeup products from Lancôme ($389) and a year’s supply of hair products from Garnier Fructis ($90), as selected by the Sponsors.

enter now
You Know You Want More
Special Offer
Link Your Marie Claire Account to Facebook

Marie Claire already has an account with this email address. Link your account to use Facebook to sign in to Marie Claire. To insure we protect your account, please fill in your password below.

Forgot Password?

Thanks for Joining

Your information has been saved and an account has been created for you giving you full access to everything marieclaire.com and Hearst Digital Media Network have to offer. To change your username and/or password or complete your profile, click here.

Your accounts are now linked

You now have full access to everything Marie Claire and Hearst Digital Media Network have to offer. To change your settings or profile, click here.