why did he give me a hickey, but not text me back?

Here I am, standing in front of my mirror, at an hour I wish I was asleep, and smothering makeup all over the enormous gloomy looking hickey that currently lives on my neck. Now I don’t want to compare something like a hickey to something a little bit more, well, stimulating of an idea; but having this massive mark for all to see has got me thinking about the idea of permanence, actually, more so impermanence. Something that used to really scare me, and I guess, still really scares me is that everything, absolutely everything, is temporary. I mean, love, friendships, the feeling of sadness,  the feeling of happiness, hickies (thank god), relationships etc etc, ALL temporary, (and I could go on and on). At the same time though, everything being temporary is not always a bad thing. Some relationships are toxic, pain is not forever, and hickies (again, thank god) go away! So yes, sometimes I appreciate the idea of a short-lived existence, but also a person who fantasizes about her life being a late 80s rom-com, where the ~love of my life~ dances with me in a rainstorm, I am more scared than appreciative of this phenomenon. I think the idea of a hickey is ~sexy~, but then I realize that this little mark of loooove represents the impermanence of people in our lives.  A guy gives me a hickey, leaving his mark, marking his temporary territory, and that hickey stays on my body for everyone (including my boss you assholes) to see, but then the guy disappears from my life as if he was never there in the first place…. it’s bullshit. This weekend I did something “somewhat” out of character for myself. I say somewhat, because I bet a lot of you who know me will be like, what the fuck, she hooks up with people, why does she keep saying she doesn’t???? And yes, I do hook up with people, moreso recently than not, but I do this, always with the knowledge that I will see them again. I mean that doesn’t always work out, and there are people I’ve hooked up with whom I no longer talk to, but at least in that moment of “our time together” they were a little less ~temporary~ then say, a one night stand. Anyways back to my weekend story, I meet this guy at a bar. He is tall, like crazy tall, brown hair, huge smile, a fucking law student (swoon) and he swept me off my feet (figuratively). We talked and talked, he bought me drinks, he bought my friends drinks, and then eventually (TBH I don’t remember the exact conversation on how this happened, because well, I was ~drunk~) we decided to leave together. He lived close by and so we walked home together, he held my hand as I drunkenly asked him a million things about himself (I can’t not do this when I am drunk). We get to his apartment and talk for a bit, eventually hook up a bit (A LOT), and drunkenly took a fucking bubble bath… yeah I don’t really know how this happened, but it did, and it was weirdly romantic, blowing bubbles on each others faces kind of romantic. We then get out, he gives me a sweatshirt to “wear to bed” he said, yet I was still weary of all of this, so I planned to leave, not sleep over, make it a real one night stand type ordeal. I thought, well we fucked, if I don’t sleep over, and cuddle and bullshit, then I won’t catch feelings. Every time though I even mentioned leaving, this perfect ass human would pull me into his bed, and get all cuddly and tickly and more vomit inducing words, and begged me to stay. Realistically he didn’t have to beg, I was wearing one of his huge hoodies, no pants on, and it was like 3 am, sooooo obviously I was staying, but ya girl loves that he clearly wanted me to. We end up talking the rest of the night, hooking up more, then falling asleep in each others arms (haha ew…). I wake up the next morning, with his arms still around me and him kissing me lightly on the cheek. We then have morning sex ,which I might add is my favorite kind. I then attempt to get out of bed, because the hangover that was slowly approaching was starting swiftly in my head, and advil was nowhere to be found. So as I try to stand up he pulls me back again, kisses me all over my face, and tells me not to leave yet (like excuse him, don’t do that unless you plan to fall in love with me). Finally though, I escape from his arms, because now the daunting hangover was creeping towards my stomach, and I did not want to puke all over this guys floor. So I stand up, my hair is tangled, my makeup smeared underneath my eyes, and there on the bed is this beautiful naked guy just laying there staring up at me. As I was pulling up my ripped tights from the night before, I remembered how last night when we finally settled down in bed, we followed each other on instagram, AND I gave him my number, BUT did not get his. Part of me wanted to ask for his, but thought maybe it was unnecessary knowing he had mine. He must have been on the same wavelength because as I was finally putting my shoes on he commented on the fact that I put a bunch of hearts next to my name for my contact info. I said some bullshit about how it was cute, then swiftly and finally got my jacket on. He walked me out, kissed me goodbye, and then I got into an uber looking like I was hit by a damn tractor trailer,  but smiling thinking about my night. I then get home and noticed the colossal mark on my neck. At first I really didn’t care, except that I would have to wear a turtleneck in 60 degree weather to babysit children, but then I thought, WAIT, what if I never see this guy again. What if he never ends up texting me? I mean, we had a really great night together, some really great ~chemistry~ (if you know what I mean), and lil romantic moments that typical one night stands don’t do (I think?), so why wouldn’t he? Well it’s been a full two days, and he has yet to text HA HAHA which is fine, I don’t care at all, not even a little, HA, but that’s not really the point. The point is, I want to see him again, I don’t want him to be just another brief encounter in my life. And that’s not just about him, that’s also about the other people I have shared a connection with. Is that so wrong to want? Is it crazy to want slight permanence in a world that is so incredibly temporary? I mean I didn’t make up this connection I shared with this guy, he definitely felt it too, so why hasn’t he texted me? Why, to him, am I just another fleeting moment? Why are some people so good at separating emotions from sex??? Are no strings attached/friends with benefits actually even attainable?? These questions are rhetorical obviously, but I guess I am frustrated with how people handle these situations, with little to no consideration for the other persons, dare I say, feelings. Okay ~maybe~I just get attached easily, maybe when a person shows me just a bit of human decency, and shares a little bit of human connection,  I am too scared to lose that feeling, so I catch feelings faster than they can even remember my name. But shouldn’t that be universal? Simply not wanting someone to be temporary like everything else? Maybe it is me, maybe I just can’t seem to understand this whole one night stand, hook up, no catching feelings type culture that has been established, but I don’t know if I ever will be able to. I mean I don’t want to be considered some weak, pathetic, sad girl, just because I want love. But as I cover up this hickey he gave me, and I constantly look down at my phone hoping for a text to pop up from the tall dreamy boy I met at the bar, that’s exactly how I feel, like some weak, pathetic, ~ sad girl~, for wanting love.