So, the ex I go on and on about ghosted me. And for a long time I thought I wouldn’t ghost anyone.
That turned out to not be true, and sometimes I feel bad about it. But also, I feel justified because this relationship was not only toxic, I think it was literally bad for my health.
Where do I begin.
I met this girl on Okcupid, Jamie. She was cool but not my type, and on a date I invited a friend of mine and just kind of left them both alone at the local bowling alley. I was dabbling with astrology at the time and their signs, I thought, were compatible so I thought they’d be a better match. Occasionally I’d talk to Jamie every now and then but I didn’t really try to lead her on, and if I did, I apologize for that, because I didn’t want to. But we were all young dumb and full of cum back then so hopefully it’s water under the bridge.
What was odd about Jamie is that she had this friend, Courtney, that would literally poach any guy Jamie was into. Like she’d friend them on Facebook or whatever, find them, and fuck them, and that’s exactly what happened to me.
I was fine with it, Courtney was more my speed but in terms of how fast we were living she was living much faster than I was.
After a collaboration in nude modeling and more nights filled with vodka than I can actually remember, I basically followed her around Allston, basically salivating from both heads trying to get another nut.
I remember this one time I was at another girls party, in the Allston area, and Courtney called me claiming she’d kill herself by jumping off the balcony if I didn’t come over.
I was wearing not rose colored glasses my friend, but crimson ones.
I left the party, I went over, I got drunk.
There was another gathering with Courtney where we were in a room of people, talking, just chatting, and I suppose I was “stealing the show” and she, viciously, kicked me in the nuts.
It made sense in my head to attack her back, but c’mon, look at the color of my skin. Somehow I laughed through tears and walked away.
There was another night where I was with Courtney, she invited another guy over, and I was passed out in the bathtub.
We weren’t “officially” dating, ever in our relationship, but we might as well have been. If it was a romantic relationship, it was open, and not because I wanted it to be, but also, during the first few moments of meeting her, she asked me to “go out with her” and I straight up said “no.”
She also asked me once to meet her family, and again, I declined.
Through the years of knowing her, hooking up with her, hooking up with her while she was dating someone else, I just don’t know what the fuck was going on in my head that made me such a dog. Coming back around begging for scraps of affection, thinking the sex was easy to get.
Courtney was on a lot of medication. Antidepressants among other things.
My buddy and I were out one night and he straight up said “she seems like she’s on antidepressants” and while I thought “okay rude” I also wondered how he could see through her that clearly and I couldn’t. Now I wonder what he went through in life…
That same night we left a party I invited her too, and we left to go eat Bonchon. I asked her to come with us but she wanted to stay at the strangers party. Not the best move.
After dinner we returned to the party and she was alone in the shower crying, somehow the laptop that was playing the music went missing and they thought we stole it when we went to dinner and they were holding her hostage. There was a standoff in the kitchen and before we came to blows, the mutual friend of ours came in and settled things.
Life progresses and I distance myself from her and she notices. She’s dating this guy in Somerville and he’s asleep, so we go outside down the road to drink and talk. We start to fool around and uh, she’s noticeably “dry.”
Even in my drunken stupor I know something is wrong, so we just make out until like, 3AM and she calls me an Uber back to my place.
I had to get to work at 9AM that day.
From there I knew, or at least I felt “if you don’t stop this shit, you’re going to ruin your life.”
So I blocked her number, blocked her on social media, and to this day if I see any kind of clue about her I immediately go to block it.
There was one night I was in a club, kinda drunk and sexually frustrated so I thought I’d unblock her and drop a line. I stopped myself, and I haven’t had the urge since…
I used to say “I had strong feelings for her” just shy of “love” but no, in the twisted world of my terrible twenties, we were in love, I was in love, but it wasn’t going in a direction that I could predict, it wasn’t safe, and it wasn’t stable, and again, I think if I kept following her into the abyss, I would’ve lost more than just a few brain cells getting black out drunk.
I don’t know if she’ll ever see or read this, and I’m not sure that I care if she does, but I do hope that life has gotten better for her, at least that, because it has for me.
Aaaannnndddd this is how I justify ghosting someone lol
