It’s really difficult to talk about the end of a relationship when you haven’t exactly had a breakup.
“Well, how did it end?” someone inevitably asks.
“Umm … I left him a heart-wrenching voicemail,” seems too embarrassing an answer.
I dated someone for more than eight months until he completely ghosted. I honestly thought this only happened to relationships in their infancy, after maybe a few dates — eight months seems like it deserves a breakup phone call at the very least. But he had stopped answering my calls and texts right around Christmastime, and I was left with no other option. Show up on his doorstep and demand some answers? Nah, not my style. So, I left a long voicemail explaining that clearly things were over, and I’d love to talk about it with him if he could summon some basic decency.
And I never heard from him. Keep reading »
I probably could have written the Modern Love essay, Exit Left, Wordlessly, in this past Sunday’s New York Times. Not that I could have penned it better than writer Aimee Lee Ball, just that I have a story which is frighteningly similar. Ball’s tale is about breaking up with a man only to have him resurface eight years later for round two. But instead of the happy ending that would ensue in Rom-Com Land, after a few months of “too good to be true” dating, the man disappeared from her life without explanation. “No message. No note,” she says. I refer to this dating phenomenon as ghosting — when a man disappears without a trace.
“Ambiguous loss” as Ball calls it, is a particularly heinous and cruel way to have a relationship end because you’re left without any indication of what might have gone wrong.”[It's] unfinished business, without closure or understanding,” Ball explains. Keep reading »
Over the summer, I had a first date with an attractive, smart guy who emailed me over an online dating site. C— was Harvard-educated, a lawyer, and a dead ringer for the actor Terrance Howard (i.e. super hot). We had a lovely conversation and was a total gentleman until the end of the date: he paid for our drinks, walked me to the train, and kissed me on the lips before telling me he wanted to see me again soon.
I texted him the next day to say “thank you for drinks!” I never heard back. Not a single peep. I got “ghosted.”
Well, I never heard back for three months, anyway. One afternoon, I randomly received this text message from C—:
Hey Jess, it’s C—. I don’t have a great excuse for why I fell off the planet. I got really busy and things got messy with an ex that I didn’t want to be bothered with while pursuing something new. If you are still interested, I’d like to see you. Keep reading »
People talk a lot about the rules of dating. Pshaw! Rules? What rules? Dating requires you to to be a ninja. You barely have time to contemplate your ever-changing instincts let alone consult your antediluvian rule book. However; there is one rule that I consider my duty to adhere to, probably because it’s the thing I dread the most. To me, it’s the Golden Rule of dating and I believe the rest of humankind should be bound (perhaps by law) to follow it as well. Daters of the world, Thou Shalt Not Ghost.
Keep reading »