Between The Texts

Between The Texts

He’s ghosting me. I’m getting ghosted! I can’t believe it, this is so out of the blue. On Sunday, I texted him and just said, “hope you’re enjoying your Sunday.” And then he texted back, and invited himself over. And then we had sex. More than once. And he said we should hang out tonight to watch American Ninja Warrior. Why would he say that if he had no intention of seeing me again? I’m going to Google why guys ghost.

Okay, according to Glamour, guys ghost for all kinds of random reasons like,“sudden change of heart.” What the hell, Glamour? That’s not helpful. And there are no examples of whether they will ghost after amazing sex. Surely that’s not possible? At least I didn’t hold out for his text first, like a game of chicken.

I just texted him, to let him know that I’m too tired to stay up for American Ninja Warrior, and that I’m not sure if he’s coming over but I’m going to bed. Maybe he’s just watching soccer and forgot. He’s really into soccer. And it’s not like I’m actually going to bed. I’m PVRing Ninja Warrior and watching The Bachelorette instead. But that’s my secret, He doesn’t need to know everything about me. Not that it matters, since I’ve been ghosted.

It actually doesn’t hurt as bad as I expected. I think it’s because I’ve been myself, and I didn’t play any games. It’s not that I try to play games. I play games by accident, mostly. My friend Drea clued me into this when I explained that I was flailing in the deep end of anxiety after the initial first dates, and stuck on whether I should wait for him to contact me so that I didn’t come across as needy or annoying. Neither of which I am, in real life outside of my head, so long as my feelings are constantly reinforced by reciprocation.

Okay, according to Glamour, guys ghost for all kinds of random reasons like,“sudden change of heart.” What the hell, Glamour? That’s not helpful.

“If you’re interested and available then that is a normal thing to be, why hide it?” Drea asked. She was sitting on her couch with the cats, while her fiancé Ryan jigged up the TV for some illegal downloading of Game of Thrones.

“I suppose that makes sense,” I mused, staring out of the window and watching leaves sway in a wet wind.

“I ended our first date early because I was tired,” she was telling me, “but I also wanted Ryan to know that I liked him and wasn’t running off, so I kissed him in Starbucks!”

“You’re such a whore.”

“Total slut. And then he put me on the bus and we kissed kind of awkwardly again because it was on a slope and he fell over.”

“So, I think my takeaway here is to stop tallying who did what?” I asked.

“If you show someone you like them in an obvious way, and then they make a game out of it? Like, they win and get to be withdrawn? Forget that!” I could hear Ryan echoing a “forget that,” in the background. “Totally don’t tally,” she added in agreement. “What? Hold on…. Ryan just reminded me that I sent the first message on OkCupid.”

I sighed, rubbing my eyes. “Trying to date like a normal person is hard.”

“Honestly, I probably didn’t date like a normal person,” said Drea. “I didn’t know what was normal! And I just didn’t give too many shits about the outcome.”

“You are my hero. That’s my new mantra. Not to give shits.”

I am also trying to follow my therapist’s advice with: prevention, regulation, and gratitude. Turns out I have a bad habit of setting goals that are too big and setting myself up for failure. Apparently, my “nothing or everything” attitude is a little too black and white for life. It’s a bit late for prevention and regulation, but I am grateful. Grateful that I had like, six orgasms last night. At least I have that takeaway. I mean, rejection hurts but even beautiful TV girls like JoJo get hurt. No one is immune. I will survive this, I am resilient.

I wonder if I texted the right Ben. My landlords name is also Ben. Ohmygod, I think I might have accidentally texted my landlord! Ohnoohnoohno… Phew, I texted the right Ben – just checked. Right number, and still no response. I can’t believe it’s over already. It was going so great, then BAM! No warning. Not that I blame him. I respect his decisions that I’m too old to be the mother of his kids. He doesn’t even have to explain. I get it. Besides, I still can’t decide if I want kids at this point. Although, I did realize yesterday that Kris Jenner is in her 60s and still a fairly stylish elderly mom to Kendall and Kylie. And then there’s Gwen Stefani. Although, she’s a bit less relatable being that she’s a unicorn and I am more of a donkey. No, my therapist said I’m not supposed to be hard on myself. I am a mini horse. I’m going to Google being an older mom. Not that it matters, since I’ll be withered up before meeting someone who has an argument for wanting kids with me.

Okay, Googling that was the worst idea ever. I basically have a high chance of dying from complications if one of my shriveled eggs manages to miraculously welcome a sperm. I did find a few nice stories from older moms who looked great, and happy (note to self: jog more, smile more). It’s probably for the best. He’s a city boy, and I just ran away from the city. The other day, he took me to see a property that he wanted to buy and build a “modern” home on. When we snuck into the yard it was dusk, and there was a half acre of apple trees and gardens with a deer resting in the grass, as the sun set into the back hills.

“Look, there’s a deer!” I whispered, pointing to where the animal sat serenely, head cocked and watching us curiously.

Ben looked at me, with absolutely no irony, and asked, “Have you not seen a deer before?”

“Of course I have,” I cried. “But look how beautiful that is! This is magical!”

His eyebrows shot up his face and he slapped his leg in laughter, scaring the deer off. “This isn’t a Disney movie!”

“It’s actually a lot like Disney right now,” I insisted, which only made him laugh harder.

He had a nice laugh. Even if he was laughing at me. Whatever. I took him on a ten minute walk in the trails outside my apartment and he complained about getting a mosquito bite. I mean, I’m no mountaineer, but I like being outside, with birds singing, etc. No, we really didn’t have much in common, other than the sex. And all those hours we talked in bed. My bed, because we’be never gone to his place. Which is weird. He’s probably hiding something, like a female roommate and is worried I’ll be jealous. As if! I’m totally Zen about us. Was totally Zen. Mostly Zen. I was capable of Zen-like tendencies. But clearly this carefree attitude turned him off in the end. I mean, if he wanted kids right now, or wanted it to be casual, he should have talked to me about it instead of assuming I couldn’t handle the conversation. I could’ve kept it causal, it just needed to be defined. Scratch that, I don’t think I could’ve had a causal relationship with him, I mean, I really like the guy, so I’ll just have to accept his decision. I do accept the decision. I do. Now there’s irony.

The guy who looks like Jim, from The Office, was just sent home without a rose. Bye Jim, I feel you. Dating is so hard. But at least I worked through all my anxiety and tried my best. Better luck next time.

Oh, Ben just texted.


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