I've been ghosted.
And it's okay.
Better now, after two nice dates, than three months down the track. Better now, when you can happily wipe any texts from your phone and move forward with your head held high, knowing that nobody has been hurt. I mean, we never kissed, let alone do anything more. It was just a couple of drinks down the pub.
Still, I've been ghosted, and the world feels like it's in order again.
His number has already been wiped from my phone. I've not sent a message to say something along the lines of "I haven't heard from you. I gather you wish to break contact. I liked meeting you. All the best for the future." He didn't give me that courtesy of doing the same. It is, however, good to draw a line in the sand. There's no more wondering. Contact is broken. That's it. it's a cleaner way of doing things.
Of course, I'm guilty of ghosting myself. I met somebody online earlier in the year. A very nice person, but a Grade Five Clinger. I'm not here to be anybody's mother. I'm not in a place to take on anybody's depression. Ghosting was my way of running for the hills. Thankfully, he got the message.
But this internet dating thing leaves something of a bad taste. And I know that it's not me, but him.
I've got my dignity and pride intact. But it doesn't mean I had let my mind wander for five minutes and extrapolated what might have been, or what could have been, or how things might have been different.
And I'm really glad I got ghosted when I did.
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