In late January (January 23 to be exact) I went on a first date with a guy I met on Bumble. He was cute, smart, and had his shit together— and I was excited.
I bet you’re wondering how a girl who never remembers anything remembers the exact date of the night we met. Well, it also happens to be the day that I got laid off from my job. I’ve talked about the lay off a lot on the blog, so to sum it up in four words, I was a mess. My friends all told me to pull it together and go have fun on the date, so I did. Or I tried, anyway.
The date was great. I obviously had a heavy chip on my shoulder, but ended up having as much fun as one could expect considering I was in tears an hour before.
Following that date we talked nearly everyday, and planned to get together again. As luck would have it, I was also getting over a lot of health issues during that time (bronchitis and asthma, all while on the verge of an emotional meltdown). I told him almost immediately that I was a hypochondriac (something I’d normally hide for at least five months) and he responded in the best way possible. Things felt natural. I know now that he was one of the good ones. I went on the second date, but immediately put up my walls afterwards. And then I ghosted him.
Before you judge me, just know that I’m not proud of this. This guy was a gem among some real dull stones, and I treated him really unfairly. I’m not going to try to justify my actions, but I was in a really low place. I didn’t know how to navigate being unemployed and truly felt like I had nothing to contribute to a relationship at the time. I was scared to get invested in something when I didn’t know what my future had in store for me. So, instead of explaining all of this like an adult, I took the easy way out and stopped responding.
Fast forward six-ish months, I’m swiping along (probably while watching Grey’s Anatomy for the 9274832 time), and see said boy on Bumble again. I instantly regretted ghosting him, and wondered what would have happened had I given him a real chance. Maybe we both would have deleted the app for good. Jokes on me, right? I was kicking myself.
Naturally, I did what any (aggressive) girl would do. I resurfaced and reached out. I was pretty positive he was going to revenge-ghost me, but turns out he’s a better person than I am. We caught up a bit via text before deciding to get together. The difference was that this time around I was all-in and ready to give it a fair shot. I was in a much better headspace than I was in January, and knew exactly what I brought to the table. I was just ready to put myself out there, you know?
Despite the fact that I loathe miniature golf, I had such a good time. I mean, he carried my purse around the golf course for me— like who even does that? It was great. I felt like things were (maybe) starting to fall into place.
Until they didn’t.
Before you get too excited, this was a fairytale ending sans fairytale: just an ending. He decided to pursue another girl that he had recently met prior to me resurfacing. Which is fine, I guess (just kidding, it is— I hope he’s happy). I totally respected his honesty, but was a lot more bummed than I ever imagined I would be over a boy I ghosted only a few months prior. I suddenly liked him, so that sucked. On the same coin, I don’t regret it for one second. In fact, I think I would have regretted it had I not reached out. Sometimes you just have to shoot your shot, even if you get shot down.
I’m only sharing this because people seem to be very invested in my dating life, and are often asking me for advice. I’m here to tell you that I don’t have it all figured out (check back in 2020).
So I guess for now the moral of the story is: don’t ghost people and go after what you want, even if it scares you.