Three weeks ago, I went out two times with one man. If we follow this mathematical pattern (3-2-1…), the next number that follows is zero: the amount of times we’ve spoken to each other since. Sometimes, you crack open a seltzer and it only takes minutes for the carbonation to escape the surface. It’s a bit disappointing, and you want to sue the grocery store, but the science of it is sound, and ultimately, that’s comforting. The same goes for interactions like these. I don’t like you very much, you don’t like me, so we don’t speak.