I met Chris in a little cocktail bar one rainy night in London shortly after moving to the city. We had a fantastic date, one of my best first dates ever, and it culminated with both a passionate kiss and an invitation to a second date. He texted me on the way home. He was the inspiration for the second part of this post.
Over the next couple of days, we texted back and forth and made plans for our upcoming dinner date. And then, the day before, I texted him to confirm what time we were meeting. No response. That seemed a bit strange, but I tried not to let it bother me until the next day. By lunchtime — I would assume we were meeting only a few hours later — I texted again. Yes, oh yes, the dreaded double-text. But I was kind of worried… and very confused. It essentially means to just disappear on someone, leaving them hanging.
Ghosting is sort of a funny term to me because ghosts haunt you, popping up when you least expect them. Oh no. They disappear for good. And it happens a hell of a lot more frequently than I first realized. Case in point: I realized how prevalent ghosting had become when I told my friend about a guy who broke things off over a drink last year.
I met Mark in a crowded bar over thumping dance music and too many pints. 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. It turns out Mark and I were a great match.
We met up once or twice a week for a couple of months, and it was a really fun beginning to a relationship. We were supposed to meet on a Sunday night at 8 p. I had even run into him the day before — we lived in the same neighbourhood — and he introduced me to his friends and said he was excited to see me.
