Why did you vanish into thin air?
Time flies, and October is already bidding us goodbye.
Pumpkin baskets are already on display in shopping windows, along with Halloween-themed decor in malls. Free sweets await children spookily dressed for trick-or-treat—while I find myself feeling bittersweet revisiting my experience of being ghosted.
How I wish ghosts are just scary faint traces of dead bodies, and not real people ending relationships without explaining why. What is haunting about it is the fact that such ghosts feel they do not really owe people like me an explanation. Decency is never compulsory, I suppose.
Nobel-prize winning author Elie Wiesel once argued that the opposite of love is not hate, but indifference. He may be right, since the purpose of ghosting is simply not to care, or to cancel out someone in life. This clearly speaks about the implication of one’s actions — whether they were done intentionally, or the person was just too scared to handle the feelings that made him or her disengage with someone. The fright of saying hurtful words could be the reason that stopped you from communicating with me, or simply the fear of drama accompanying break-up scenes.
But have you ever considered that leaving someone hanging would never help him understand what made you change your mind? The greatest fear of the person you left could be losing you.
We watched movies together, shared earphones to listen to songs we liked, brewed stories over coffee, and walked together in the shade of trees. We also tried new restaurants for dinner, usually on Friday nights. I honestly cannot recall how the meals we had enjoyed tasted like, because for me, the company we had was more remarkable than the food.
I felt secure with what we had when we went to church and prayed for each other. It somehow gave me the illusion that God really made our paths cross for a sweet reason, and not just for a bitter lesson. I thought presence and time were sufficient enough to seal the assurance of a relationship. But I was wrong.
Making someone feel so special is the most fearful thing with ghosts like you. Maybe treating people like potential partners is what you consider the “new normal.” It is appalling to realize that dating apps are markets for single men and women chasing love, yet some look at them as mere commodities. Choosing someone according to how they look like in pictures, as if they are just options in a restaurant menu: There is business or trading in love, and it is in the mask of needing to feel the same for each other. How I wish we can stop treating people like products available for barter.
It is not fair to do “benching” or flirting with someone if you are not really invested. You cannot just leave them on queue, “on the bench,” because you only see them as Plan B. They are not back-up players in a basketball game.
But if you feel lost, there are ways to convey your message of rejection. You can do “curving” — to still talk to someone and politely reject their requests for dates. By that, you can at least make your purpose clear in actions, if not directly in words. But if you think the line is still blurry after this, then define the relationship (or “DTR,” in dating lexicon). Are both of you committed? In the social media age, it is possible to date different people in all days of the week. Is it not frightening that nobody can be sure about loyalty nowadays?
Be clear with your intentions. Do not go on “bread crumbing,” or leading someone on with no intention of getting serious. Stop taking advantage. Making others feel down is not a way to legitimize your power. It is not polite to ghost someone because of the fear of being seen.
After having turned into thin air, would you still bother “haunting” or liking posts, viewing Instagram stories, or even following the social media accounts of the person you ghosted? You could have done “submarining” instead—reaching out to someone after ghosting him. This would at least be a way for you to apologize and explain yourself. But gauge the situation before doing so. If that person has already disengaged from all connections with you, then respect his peace instead.
It would be awkward to resurrect your presence in a person who is moving on, after you’re done “mooning” or muting him, like a do-not-disturb function on your phone. There would always be ways of saying goodbye aside from ghosting.
I think I am at peace with the idea of moving on from the one who ghosted me, but I have to admit that, every day, I still wonder what would happen in case we crossed each other’s paths again. I try to anticipate our possible reactions. Would we talk? Acknowledge each other’s presence with a nod or a smile? Pretend we did not see each other?
Is being ghosted synonymous to burning bridges?
There are so many “what ifs” that could have been easily answered — if only you had not vanished into thin air.
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Arjay Ivan R. Gorospe, 20, is a fourth year Philippine Studies student at the University of the Philippines Diliman.