I thought that our relationship would end up being one that made me want to post sappy love quotes on Facebook, or even make me reconsider my resolve to not marry until my late twenties. Obviously, no such relationship ever existed. Now here I am writing about how our connection deteriorated into me patiently waiting for a text and call that will never come, and clinging to fading memories that will never be renewed.
You may have thought that I was the typical girl who flirted with every guy she came into contact with, or claimed that any tall, dark, and handsome man was her Prince Charming, but, if that’s the case, you were gravely mistaken.
It may sound cliché and very “Bacheloresque” but I actually felt a connection with you, and that’s very rare for me. You had so much depth to you, and I was so interested in exploring it. You had so many novel perspectives on life that I had never previously considered, and you were perfect in divulging not too much, but just enough to make me feel like I had to know more.
You asked me questions, and seemed genuinely interested in learning the answers, I mean, how often do you find someone like that? You could have made the conversation all about you, but you didn’t. You wanted to know about places I wanted to travel, whether I was more like my mom or my dad, what my favorite dessert was, and so much more.
We bonded over our mutual love for butterfingers and French fries, and could effortlessly transition from a deep conversation about values to a competition over who had the best British accent.
Imagine how it must have felt when I tried to maintain contact, but you didn’t. Imagine how it felt to know that I had been the only one on the brink of falling in love.
Maybe I imagined the connection, and maybe I wanted it too bad, but let me remind you that it was you who asked me out on the second date, it was you who put your arms around me, it was you who tried to hold my hand, and it was you who leaned in close.
Most importantly, it was you who said we should keep in touch.
I understand not feeling the chemistry, and I can easily empathize with not wanting to hurt someone’s feelings, but if you think that never contacting me again is the best way to spare my emotions… you thought wrong. I would rather have you call me and use the classic: “you’re a really great girl but…” or the quintessential “it’s not you, it’s me,” bit, than ghost me out of your life as if I was never in it…even for a moment.
Of course, it would have been uncomfortable, and the rejection would have hurt, but it would have been brief. What really hurt then, and what still hurts now, is that you didn’t have enough respect for me to even offer an explanation.
Despite all this, I’m grateful for the time we had together and for what I learned about love and life. But above all, I’m grateful for this experience because even though it has been painful, the pain has helped me determine that I will never ghost anyone in order to save myself from awkwardness.