Where's Wordy?

Professor Wordsmith seems to have fallen off the face of the earth.  Our communication has always been odd, but one day, he just stopped calling.  Okay, it's more than that.  One Thursday he asked me to go to Chuck E. Cheese with him and his son that weekend.  I agreed but needed to get off the phone, so we decided to talk Friday to make plans.  I called and texted several times with no response.  Same thing Saturday, and at that point I started to worry.  I admit - I'm a worrier, so I was already worried on Friday.  Still.  Sunday I was too frustrated to even attempt contact.  I figured if he was the one who wanted to get together, he could contact me.  He finally called a little after 9:00pm Sunday.  A little late to be calling for plans for the weekend, but I was hoping maybe he had a good explanation.  He cut things short after just a minute and asked if he could call me right back, knowing that I was already in bed, watching TV.  Of course, I still wanted to give him a chance to explain himself, so I agreed.  When he finally called back over and hour and a half later, I was sound asleep and let him know it; he said he'd call the next day.  That was over a month ago. 

I'm so torn as to how to feel.  I know after a few days I should have been the bigger person and called him, but I'm just so tired of being everyone's mother.  I hate to admit it, but the first week or so was like a vacation from this stress I didn't realize I was carrying around.  I'm worried about what's going on that has kept him from contacting me, but I'm also so tired of feeling like I need to check up on him.  It's such a weird combination of emotions that I feel when I think of him.  I miss his ability to talk about anything but I'm relieved to not feel the need to try to focus his ADD energy so I could follow the conversation.  I crave the way he made me feel on the rare occasion I could actually get his undivided attention, but I'm thankful that I no longer feel the need to fight for that attention.  I'm worried about whether he's taking care of himself and if he's letting his ex-wife tear him down even more than has already happened, but I'm comforted by the fact that he is not my responsibility.  It's very similar to the feeling I had when my foster kids left.  There was such a weight off my shoulders that I was no longer responsible for this troubled little life, but it still ripped my heart out to see them go.  I'm not really sure why I'm writing this for the blog.  It really has nothing to do with most of my blog, I just feel the need to put it out there, to get it off my chest....I don't know what I hope to gain from it, other than finally saying something I haven't said to anyone, which is...it doesn't really matter how much he frustrated me or stressed me out; I miss him.