On my fourth, excruciating day of not hearing from GQ, I was still racking my brain for possible reasons he could have ghosted. But I knew it was time to accept the fact that things were over between us. I knew I needed to reactivate my OKCupid profile— the one he suggested I take down to focus on “us.” But there was no “us” anymore. There was just me. And him, somewhere out there, avoiding me.
Feeling deflated, I logged back online when, to my surprise, I saw that GQ had reactivated his profile. To say that I was pissed is an understatement. After reaching out for days without any response, I was furious that GQ had no problem deciding to date other people without even bothering to give me one simple phone call to let me know I’d been dumped. A dick move. I made the oh-so-mature decision that probing him with questions (okay, and maybe some name-calling) wasn’t worth my time and energy. His message was coming through loud and clear: he wanted nothing to do with me. Keep reading »
When your Tinder date stands you up , or God forbid, the guy you’ve been dating disappears into thin air, it can be mind-boggling to try to figure out what went wrong. Closure is an important thing to have when it comes to dating, and since ghosters rarely are able to provide it, you have to find alternative ways to give your feelings a proper burial. (I’ve tried everything from writing an un-sent letter to performing some weird-ass “letting go” ritual. Hey, whatever works.) Add another option to that list: write an obituary for him. Because the best thing for your sanity (and your ego) is to assume that he died and that’s why he’s not returning your multiple calls and text messages. All other options lead directly to self-blame. Buzzfeed made some sample obituaries for hot guys who disappeared accompanied by whimsical illustrations. Finally, a positive way to channel your rage. [Buzzfeed]
It’s been two days since I’ve heard from GQ, and to be honest, I’m in an anxiety spiral. Although there’s still a tiny part of me that’s hoping for the best, it appears I’ve been ghosted.
Last week, as I mentioned, I happily accepted when GQ asked me over for takeout and a movie. Although we ultimately opted against the takeout in favor of a quick trip to a cozy eatery near his apartment, the night went exactly according to plan. We laughed, talked, yes—slept together— and even made the decision to take down our online dating profiles. Keep reading »
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 »