"There's monsters in all of us, but there's also vulnerability."- Finn Wittrock
Ghosted.I wasn't thinking about the supernatural creature that lived in between worlds: afterlife and reality. I meant the modern-day definition associated with technology and social media. I never heard the term until I created my multiple dating accounts. "Ghosted" implied certain nouns, such as: goner, ignorer, leaver, and zero contact. I participated in these acts without any knowledge of the word. I ghosted quickly and effortlessly; it was easy considering, I turned off my online dating notifications. My smart phone's battery died within an hour if I kept the notifications on.
I answered important messages whenever I felt a "breeze" pass by. More importantly, when the woman was super-mega-gorgeous and she teased like an owner playing keep away with their dog. Within my grasp, I typed up my response and reciprocated back the woman's sentiment as best as I could.
With a few flirty comments like cutie, darlin', and sweetheart along with an emoji smiley face ... maybe throw in a winky face. I engaged with my flirty responder, and I "disappeared" for another week or month before they reached out once more.
However, I never had anyone "ghost" me before. At least, no one had blatantly done it to my face – virtually meaning.
But the woman did.
One week had passed, I couldn't reply back to her simple, yet conniving message.
What reputation? You don't have one. Goodbye, Oli. ❤️
It wasn't that the message caused embers to sizzle and crackle. No.
It was the fact my access was denied: no typed messages, no more viewing her profile, and no participation in any actions. My gut twisted and my teeth clenched. She won the ghosting game.
She freaking blocked me!
The equivalent to a "block" would be person "A" communicating to person "B." Before person "A" opened their mouth to convey their thoughts and ideas, person "B" held up their hand, shimmed their way over on the other side without an acknowledgement, look, or words expressed to person "A." In the public eye, this type of behavior would be frowned upon! Rude even to dismiss a light polite conversation.
I gripped my smartphone. My mind drifted to the scenario.
My knuckles turned white. Both hands were occupied. My right hand held onto my smartphone as I reread her daring message. My left hand rested on my knee, my finger dug into my cashmere jeans.
Put your game face on, I grit my teeth. There was no time to think of her.
I put away my smartphone. I didn't need another distraction before the pitch meeting happened. I released the pressure. The color regained back within my hands.
YOU ARE READING
Fake It | ✔️
ChickLitSugar McKenzie and August Wakefield couldn't be more different - Sugar, a meticulous, caring, but lonely paramedic and August, a charming former reality star still chasing his dream. But they've both closed themselves off emotionally from others...t...