Let’s face it: at some point or another, we ladies have been or will be #ghosted. If you’re not familiar with this trend, Urban Dictionary describes it as “quietly disappearing from someone you’ve met on an online dating site,” but it can also apply to people you know who have simply removed themselves from your life.
The first time it happened to me I was 19. I went on a couple dates with this guy I met through a friend. I thought they went well, but after the second one I texted him and his response was super curt. So, like any reasonably-minded girl, I waited a day until I texted him again––just a cool and simple “what’s up?” No response. “Hmm…” I thought to myself. “Am I being #ghosted?” As it turns out…I was.
The next month I went out with a guy I met through Tinder. I definitely wasn’t in love, but I still wanted to explore this uncharted territory. I texted him a couple days after our date to ask if he was up to get coffee. A few minutes passed. Then it was hours. Eventually those hours turned into days and that’s when I knew I had been #ghosted for sure.
Then last week when Halloween came, I knew I was in trouble. Every night at every party I went to, I saw at least one #ghost. Was I being #ghosted again? Were these the actual #ghosts of the guys who had #ghosted me? It was #spooky, to say the least.
At the first party I went to, I felt super confident. I had on my clever “sexy Freudian slip” costume and I was ready to tear up the dance floor, when suddenly I stopped in my tracks when I felt a cool breeze of air pass through my body. There were no windows open. The door was shut. It was just a sweaty chamber filled with the classic combination of scantily-clad women and beer-bellied men. The only thing it could have been was an actual phantom passing through my body. I had been physically #ghosted and I was #shook.
I didn’t have high hopes for the next party. The theme? #Ghosted (@PW Upspace). As soon as I stepped inside that dark black box, my eyes immediately fell on a #ghost. We made eye contact through his eye-holes, and, believe it or not, he was one of the men who had #ghosted me earlier in the semester! The #ghost costume was, of course, paired with a tiny hat, cuffed jeans and worn-out Vans. He avoided eye contact with me for the rest of the night, and since then has yet to be seen.
The next morning, I got a phone call from an unknown number. “Hello? Who is this?” I asked, followed by heavy breathing on the other end. “It’s me, the #ghost of Christmas Past!” I immediately hung up. I couldn’t handle anymore #ghosting, even if it wasn’t seasonally appropriate.
Now that #Halloweekend has officially left us, will I still get #ghosted? Maybe it was only happening to me in preparation for Halloween. Maybe it was all just a big prank… or maybe the guys who had #ghosted me died and came back for a night because it turns out they did actually want to see me again and they had just been “like so busy.” Either way, now I think I might have to take myself off the market for a little while, just until I feel a little less #spooked. And just wait until next #Halloween–I’ll be the one doing the #ghosting, because I’m a 21st century girl and that’s the feminism we need!
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