Ghosting

Ghosting.


According to Urban Dictionary:

"The act of suddenly ceasing all communication with someone the subject is dating but no long wishes to date. This is done in hopes that the ghostee will just "get the hint" and leave the subject alone, as opposed to the subject simply telling them he/she is no longer interested."



It's happened to everyone. To be honest, everyone has probably done it themselves. I'm sure I probably have in the past. But certainly in the last year, if I've gone on a date and not been interested I've made an effort to tell the guy. And I certainly won't be doing it again to anyone else in the future.
Which brings me to recent events. AKA When I Got Ghosted and Got Really Fucking Annoyed About It.

I met ScorTish at my mum's Moving to Scotland with her Fiance garden party. I was completely expecting the party to be full of her 50-60 year old mates. Who granted, are good fun, but certainly not anyone I would be looking to bang. What I wasn't expecting was a young blonde Scottish man in his twenties to be there, who absolutely fit as fuck with the most gorgeous Scottish accent, (what can I say I am an absolute SUCKER for a regional accent).Turns out he works with my mum's partner at the same school. He was also there with a woman in her twenties and I assumed they were together. 

After meeting we all decided to go into town around midnight (plus my gay flatmate who was also at the party), the other girl revealed she was going to go home to her girlfriend. So it was down to the three of us. We went to a great little indie bar and spent the rest of the night chatting and dancing, and then I proceeded to start kissing ScorTish whilst my flatmate essentially third-wheeled around us (sorry Sean!)

ScorTish came back to mine and we had some BANGING sex. He was pretty rough and went at me like an absolute jackhammer. Slipped in a "Good Girl" or two. Highly enjoyable. 

Next morning we went out for brunch and coffee, came back to mine, fucked some more, played MarioKart on the N64, had a nap, then had some more sex. It was just fucking awesome. Got his number, he seemed keen to meet up again.




Cue a week of fairly constant messaging, set up a date. He seems wonderful. Really fucking clever (1st in MATHS at Imperial), decided to be a teacher in a rough school than go into a soulless banking job (which he would have walked into and be being paid a HELL of a lot more), got promoted to head of maths within 2 years etc etc, musical - plays the guitar, into the same kind of music, goes to festivals. Go on date, go to a few different bars. Get on pretty well! The night ends with him back at mine for a repeat run. He leaves pretty early to go back to his to sort out a fridge getting delivered.....




....and that was it. The last I heard from him. No messages for a day or two. And my gut kicked in....this was different. He'd been messaging constantly the week before. I knew something was up. And once again, my gut was 100% right. I wish it was wrong sometimes, you know??



So, I sent a message asking if he wanted to meet up again. Which got ignored. The dreaded "double blue ticks" appeared on Whatsapp. Seriously, those fucking blue ticks need to do one. I went into serious meltdown mode on Twitter about it, but luckily some absolute babes on there (holla guys!) calmed me down.

24 hours later I sent: "Does the radio silence mean that's a no then?" Which also got ignored. 

Not going to lie, I was pretty upset at first. I really quite liked this guy. I then, then I just got royally pissed off. Would it kill you to just send a "thanks but no thanks"? It takes NOTHING. It's just fucking RUDE to ghost someone. Especially someone who's mum is marrying your really quite good friend. Anyway. I composed this kick ass message, but I never actually sent it because you know what? He didn't deserve the satisfaction.

"Don't worry, I've got the message loud and clear so this will be the last text you get from me. You don't want to see me again, that's fine. But really, ignoring me until I go away is childish and actually just plain fucking rude, especially given how we met and who you know. (Mum's fiance) seems to think a lot of you but to me that seems a bit mistaken. It really doesn't take much to have a bit of respect to just say "sorry I don't think I want to see you again," and if you're being a proper grown up you could even stretch to a reason why! I guess I just don't understand what's happened because I thought we were having fun? Obviously got that wrong. I also thought you weren't a ghosting fuckboy as well but there we go. Have a good one."

And about 3 days later I was over the dickhead.




Knocked down thirty three, get up thirty four....

Knocked down thirty two.....

I wrote this post back in June originally but never got around to posting it. So here it is, in August.....

***

So the last month or two has been quite the disaster on the dating scene, with a total of four rejections. First one was the hardest, one I've talked about on Twitter the most probably: Oirish. 

I met him in the staff room at work. I'd just come back after a particularly heavy holiday at a skiing/music festival straight into a run of 12-midnight shifts over a weekend. It was the Saturday night and it had finally started to quieten down so around 11.20 I was sitting off waiting for the clock to turn midnight and go home. 

I was sat on my own in the room when he wandered in. He immediately started talking to me in the most incredible southern Irish accent I have EVER heard. Soft, lilting, proper "top o' the mornin to ye, tirty tree and a tird," stuff. (Ie Cork, for the uninitiated...) he just didn't stop, so full of energy and life it just completely bowled me away. (And henceforth was known as Oirish on Twitter).

God knows what we talked about but he revealed that he should have gone home at ten, and yet he proceeded to stay talking to me until midnight, despite already being an hour and half late to go home.....

He was also jaw droppingly beautiful. 

I saw him a few more times in the next week or so, a chat here over lunch, and chat there during an on call. During one of these episodes he gave me some stick about not telling him/not inviting him to one of the work nights out which was happening the next day (there was a poster up on the wall.) Of course I told him he was invited, and took that as an opportunity to add him on Facebook and message him about the next months night out as well.....

There was then a bit of flirting over Facebook the next day (the day of the night out,) and when he appeared at said night out I was pretty chuffed. I was also pretty drunk so god knows what kind of impression I made on him. The most important thing I remember about this night is 

A) kissing him

B) being in his car (he doesn't drink, was going home at midnight and gave me a lift from a bar to a club)

C) getting his phone number and it being saved in my phone as "[His Name] Legend." Yes. Really. 

Long story short the next two weeks is pretty much constant messaging and flirting. Especially one Friday night when I was out with a girlfriend, literally texting throughout the night out until about four am, despite him being in work the next day. 

We set up a date, which is not the most convenient as its after I finish an on call on a Monday night, so it starts at 10pm. We grab some food and chat for two hours, which feels like two minutes, he walks me back to my car, it's raining, he kisses me, I think "oh my god is this actually happening?" 

We talk about setting up a second date. The next weekend I go to London, he goes back to Ireland for a wedding. The chat dries up somewhat which I do think a bit odd. I really need to trust my gut, it's always fucking right!! 

Message on Monday as I've not heard much which is when he drops the bombshell.

.......He'd kissed his ex at the wedding, and so wanted to pretty much end things with me. He was completely up front about it, which is good, I guess. But still. It kinda hurt. 

Talk about gutted. I mean, this is nearly two months ago, and everytime I see him at work, everytime he talks to me, it feels like I've been punched in the stomach. Sigh. 

At said "month later work do," Oirish was there and it was the first time I'd seen him since the blow off. Predictably gorgeous. Predictably friendly, enthusiastic, wanting to talk to me. Also, annoyingly, doing it just as my second work crush walked past and dropped something stereotypically Irish into the conversation. Me and my flat mate then worked very hard, pretty much throwing myself at work crush number two but to no avail. Second rejection. 

To be fair, rejection three and four were both men I've not actually met, but both were from dating apps and we'd arranged a time and date to meet up. (Both Doms as well). First one ghosted me. After a fair bit of negotiation as well I might add. Second one pissed me off because, again, after initially talking loads, and then mysteriously going quiet - prompting me to message, revealed, AGAIN, that his ex had got back in touch and they were going to get back together. 

Two in two months is some shitty luck I tell you. Just made me rage a bit, "Why can't I get back with MY EX?" (And I know for all my bravado, this made me realise that if HR turned round to me and asked if I wanted to get back together the answer would be yes, without even having to think about it, I would say yes, YES in the blink of an eye.

So here we, 18 months on from being dumped by HR and still, deep down, he's got a hold on me. Not that I didn't really predict this, reading back my entries from just after we broke up I pretty much knew this would happen. Not that there's any satisfaction I can derive from being right. 

Still. Fall down thirty two times. Get up thirty three.