Back in August, I began dating a man who I once drunkenly made out with at a bar. The two of us actually attended the same high school. Never encountering one another whilst in school, our drunken and very sloppy smooch session, in the booth at a local bar, that infamously served underage adults remains a much more exciting tale. Either way, back in August we had our first actual date. The two of us, again, met at a local bar. This time though, we were both of legal drinking age and I am sad to report that we did not share a moment of tender drunken passion in a booth. Either way, the date was fun and we continued a romantic and exciting four month long courtship. That was…until he “ghosted” me.
The term ghosted is described by Wikipedia as follows: “Ghosting is breaking off a relationship (often an intimate relationship) by ceasing all communication and contact with the former partner without any apparent warning or justification, as well as avoiding or ignoring and refusing to respond to the former partner’s attempts to reach out or communicate.” Yes! I was ghosted.
In fact the first time I heard the word ghosted, I literally thought that someone was being visited by a ghost late at night. For real, I envisioned a previous home owner who had once died in a random house coming back and haunting the new resident and saying shit like, “Bitch, get out of my house. BOO!” Then the ghost would laugh maniacally, passing through walls of the house. Meanwhile, the person being haunted would be flailing his/her arms around and screaming in fear. Never in a million years did I imagine that ghosting someone would be an actual act committed by a man or a woman, especially after the age of 30. Of course, I was wrong.
Now, I am not going to sit here and bash the man who did commit the act of ghosting on me. In fact, I fell pretty hard for him, sort of fast too, if I am being honest. And, I am being honest because my motto in life is always: Honesty is the ONLY policy. And if you know me, you know that I do not fall easily for any man. I struggle to trust men. I struggle to accept that any man who has ever used a social media dating app, like Bumble or Tinder, is even looking for love. And, how could I? Every man who I have ever dated, especially in the last month, has told me some version of the following: “I mean, who cares if it does not work with some random girl. There is always someone else in the app waiting for another date. In fact, I am on Tinder and Bumble, just to increase my chances of meeting more women. So, onto the next…” No joke, I have heard the same version of this story, from the last three men who I went on a first date with. Needless to say, I lost interest quickly and second dates did not occur.
*Note: If a man is on more than one social media dating site, just run for your life. This is a man who will always be looking for the next best option and will never be truly satisfied. Run.
Speaking of first dates, I am terrible at all initial encounters with men. I am honestly surprised that I am not being ghosted more often due to my sarcasm and innate awkwardness. With that being said, I was wildly excited that this man who originally ghosted me even wanted a second date, as I was…of course–awkward and sarcastic. Note, the sarcasm is exponentially exacerbated during all first face-to-face interactions with men. Have you ever seen an actual fish out of water, flopping around on dry land? Yeah, that floppy is fish is, in fact, me–fucking awkward and fucking sarcastic. So, you can imagine how shocked I was when the original ghoster asked to spend another evening with me.
Fast forward four months later and there I was…being GHOSTED. The last words this man said to me were, “You are still full of shit”. He accused me of blocking him on my fucking Instagram. To be clear, I did not block him, as that would be insanely childish and weird, on a level that I would not even touch. Listen, every once in awhile I need a mad break from Facebook, Instagram and all other forms of social media, so I delete the apps and take a brief recess. Like, let’s be honest, I do not need to be obsessing over photos of women, who weigh 110 pounds, and then comparing my thick ass thighs and my colossal ass to these pint sized ladies. In 1996, the band Chicago had a song called “Hard to Say I’m Sorry” and in the first verse of the song, the lyrics read:
Everybody needs a little time away
I heard her say
From each other
Even lovers need a holiday
From each other
Like, they get it. Chicago totally gets it. Sometimes, I just need a little time away from feeling like human garbage because Instagram is telling me I need to be a size two. But, to my point, I was ghosted a month ago to the date and I am still deeply hurt and confused by this grown ass man’s inability to communicate his feelings to me.
Okay, so here is the lesson we should all take from this story regarding the disgusting act of ghosting: DO NOT DO IT. DO NOT GHOST. BE A DESCENT FUCKING HUMAN.
Unless you are a God damn dead person, coming back to haunt the new tenants of the home you previously owned, cutting off all communication with someone you once cared about is 100% unacceptable. BE AN ADULT! Tell the person who you just spent X amount of time with that you are no longer interested in seeing him/her romantically. Like, how fucking hard is that? Let me rephrase, telling someone that you are no loner interested in him/her is just the descent thing to do. Period. End of story.
So, to all of you men and women who feel that ghosting is an appropriate means to ending a relationship, my hope is that throughout the year of 2018 you receive the haunting of a lifetime. Legit, I hope that a wall in your home turns into a portal from Hell. I hope that demons use it as a passage way through unworldly dimensions. My hope is that these demons freak you the FUCK out. For all of you out there who have committed the heinous act of ghosting, my wish is that your alarm clocks go off at 3:00 a.m., for months on end. The Devil’s Hour is going to be your time to shine asshole!
He is coming to get you and let’s be honest…you probably deserve it!