Being ghosted doesnt turn you into a ghost.
Flames dont begin to burst out of your phone screen, hungry for a pair of hands.
You dont scream or fall to your knees, begging for release from the pain surging through your heart.
Louis
Nobody immediately senses your distress and comes to your rescue.
The room youre in doesnt crumble into pieces.
Nothing, really, changes.
But all of a sudden, its different.
Maybe his cell was off.
Maybe he was having problems with it and his iPhone was in an Apple store being poked and prodded.
Maybe hed forgotten to charge it overnight so hed been left without it, all day.
A dead lump of technology sitting useless on his work desk.
His foot had come down, hard.
He didnt want to know me anymore.
He wanted to disappear quietly and without a trace.
I have no idea.
At the time it made sense.
I wanted to check-in and ensure that he was doing okay.
The keywords here areIandneeded at the core, my reaching out was a selfish act.
One that I masqueraded under the costume of concern.
How could loving somebody with your entirety not be enough?
How could my genuine concern have been misread as something dirty, and invasive?
I would leave this situation scarred and bloody.
I would leave this situation alone.
And at first, that was the worst ending I could ever have penned for us.
Our relationship didnt have to be defined by our downfall if I didnt want it to.
More importantly, myownlife didnt have to be defined by my failed relationship.
Until then Id been holding onto scraps of hope, telling myself that he would come back to me.
We would pick up where we left off and it would be beautiful and magical and everything I wanted.
Now, I take this as a sign that I dodged a potential bullet.
Its bright, and its just ahead of you.
Being ghosted doesnt turn you into a ghost.
