It turns out Mark and I were a great match. He tried to kiss me on the dance floor, I got weirded out, and he convinced me to give him my number so he could take me out and make it up to me. To my surprise, he actually texted the next day. I met Mark in a crowded bar over thumping dance music and too many pints. The second time I was ghosted, I didn’t understand why the guy ended up being such an asshole. And it happens a hell of a lot more frequently than I first realised.Ĭase in point? I realised how prevalent ghosting had become when I told my friend about a guy who dumped me over a drink last year, and her first words were, “Aw, he actually broke up with you in person? That’s so sweet!” True story. Ghosting is sort of a funny term to me, because ghosts haunt you, popping up when you least expect them. he passed away… yes, I would take back any ill will I wished upon that person, obviously*. If someone ghosted on me and then literally turned out to be a real ghost i.e. And – any SATC fans out there? – if memory serves me correctly, he really did die. I seem to recall a Sex and the City episode where Miranda gets stood up for a date, and her friends pipe in that he might have died. I’ve also heard this referred to as “blue-ticking” someone, meaning you can see that they read your message on WhatsApp (or whatever form of communication you use) but they didn’t reply. This can occur in many ways – the good old-fashioned “he stood me up” bit – but nowadays tends to occur when someone simply cuts communication altogether. It essentially means to just disappear on someone, leaving them hanging. “Are we still on for tonight?”Īnd that, dear friends, is when I encountered my first ghost.īefore Chris, I don’t think I had heard the term “ghosting” before. But I was kind of worried, and very confused. By lunchtime – I would assume we were meeting only a few hours later – I texted again. That seemed a bit strange, but I tried not to let it bother me until the next day. And then, the day before, I texted him to confirm what time we were meeting. Over the next couple of days, we texted back and forth and made plans for our upcoming dinner date. He was the inspiration for the second part of this post. “I can’t stop smiling…,” he wrote, and oh my god, there is no better feeling than getting that text after making out with a ridiculously hot, ridiculously intelligent journalist named Chris, let me tell you. We had a fantastic date, one of my best ever, and it culminated with both a passionate kiss and an invitation to a second date. I met Chris in a little cocktail bar one rainy night in London not long after I had moved to the city (sidenote: my best friend has demanded that I never again date a guy called Chris… I’m cursed with guys called Chris). The first time I was ghosted, I didn’t understand what I had done wrong.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |