A couple of times, she reached out again with vague texts that hinted at reconnecting, but by then, I was over it. I wasn't going to chase someone who couldn't even stick around for a real conversation. Still, there was a part of me that was frustrated—why did she keep reappearing if she wasn't interested? Was she trying to keep the door open for some future possibility, or was she just bored?
Years later, out of curiosity, I agreed to meet up with her again. We spent the night talking, sharing what felt like meaningful conversations. But once again, she disappeared without a trace, repeating her familiar pattern of ghosting. It became clear that this was her way—constantly appearing and reappearing, never staying long enough to leave a real mark.
Looking back, her ghosting annoyed me more than anything else. It wasn't the lack of a deep connection that bothered me—it was her inability to properly close the chapter. I realized that what I really wanted was someone who didn't ghost, someone who knew how to handle things with maturity and honesty. Someone who wouldn't leave doors half-open, but who could close them properly when needed.
In the end, I'm glad she ghosted. We were never going to work, and the more I reflect on it, the more I realize that I need someone who can meet me where I am—emotionally and culturally. Celeste's constant disappearing act taught me one thing: I needed someone who was willing to stay, or at least say goodbye properly when it was time to leave.
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From Singapore to the World: A Journey of Lesbian Love Across The Globe
RomanceThis is my personal story-an unfiltered and raw memoir that takes you along on my journey through love, lust, heartbreak, and self-discovery. It's about navigating relationships as a Singaporean woman exploring her identity in a world where every ci...
