“How did it happen?” “How did I fall for the one guy who can make me swoon and who I feel gut-wrenching anguish when HE IGNORES ME?”
You want him. You don’t want him. You want him to want you. You want him to want you every day, not every few days.
“Could he act like he freaking cares and just touch base? Is it too much trouble?”
You pour through online articles searching for help to explain, after so many great times, how a boyfriend can disappear. You search for what to do. You find some insight. They even sound like good advice.
As you finally fall asleep in a mix of indignation, outrage, and courage, you promise yourself you will ignore him. Tomorrow you’ll be charting a life course without him.
You’re tired of feeling like your heart is in a Vitamix on ice crush mode.
You’re worthy. Yeah. No more obsessing on him. From now on, it’s about YOU.
You wake up determined. You review in your mind:
“I am not bothering with this indifferent boyfriend if he can’t trouble himself to text or call me.”
Cold turkey. Willpower of the mind. No contact.
“I got this.”
You just do one quick final glance at your phone in case he left a text stating that he’d been in the hospital for the last week in a coma.
It’s not there.
That’s okay. You were only double checking.
It’s Saturday, and you’re going to the gym to exercise. Yep, you’ll get in revenge body state.
When you get in the car, you check your email, because maybe his phone got crushed under a speeding subway train when some rando stole his phone and hurled it into the tracks.
Ok, that email didn’t show up. But no harm to look. You don’t want to falsely move on from a guy.
You get to the gym and sit on the bike. There’s nothing on the TV.
You’ll just check Facebook. And a quick peek at your MIA boyfriend’s page.
After all, his mom might have posted that your guy, Anthony, rolled down a ski slope in an avalanche of snow hurtling his lean, muscular, hotly amazing body down the hill where visitors from Sweden whisked him to a local hospital for recovery. Without his I.D. Therefore, his mom, after telling authorities of her missing son, just found out he’s alive with a heavily bandaged face and posted on his Facebook page for prayers and support.
Nothing. The last post from him was five days ago. Something about a keto diet hack for faster abs.
You slowly start to pedal the bike. But now you’re thinking about his 6-pack and how fantastic they feel pressed up against you.
You get off of the bike and move over to the treadmill.
You check the ringer on your phone. Yeah, it’s still on high. Just checking.
Straddling the treadmill while it’s on level 6, you do a quick survey of his LinkedIn and Twitter. Nothing.
Now you wished he used all social media. You’d be signing up for an account on Myspace if it was a possibility to find him there.
You lay on the mats in the stretch out area. Rolling from side to side in the fetal position while staring at your phone, pretending you’re loosening up your spine. You realize you look like a 9-month old with a milk bottle.
You’re testing to see if you have mind control and can will him to call your cell.
Oh, wait, maybe your battery is low. Let’s check.
No. It’s at 86%.
You decide to leave the gym. You wasted an hour doing nothing. But that’s okay. You have to build up into not bothering to think of him.
You decide to go to the new market 20 minutes away. That will be a nice distraction.
It also happens to be in the general direction of Anthony’s house.
Viewing a map, the grocery store is due north, Anthony’s place is to the south, but you realize you don’t ever ‘take in’ your city. This drive south, east and then north is a check off your Bucket List.
Off you go. What a good thing you didn’t get all sweaty in the gym, in case you run into Anthony as you drive on the 45 mile-per-hour street close to his subdivision. He does like to jog there on Saturdays.
Well, what do you know? Ahead, there’s the street for turning into his neighborhood.
Sure, why not? He could have been cleaning his roof of pine needles five days ago which would explain why he freaking ghosted. Once on the steep roof, he lost his balance, then slid down it getting caught up to dangle off of the gutter all week long. Upside down. Dehydrated. He’d be so grateful to see you. You’d be saving his life. He’d never, ever forget you. Ever. He’d want all of his days and nights to be with you. You both will tell the story to your guests at your wedding reception.
You slow down on the approach to his house. You’re not a stalker. You’re more Florence Nightingale using surveillance tactics in case he’s in distress outside of his home.
Two houses from his you park on the side of the street.
No movement outside. No body dangling from the gutter.
His car is in the driveway.
Then, it’s like one of those moments from a cartoon strip. You can feel the white rays of light cutting through the clouds, through your sunroof and steeped in higher power wrappings with an angel chorus, you hear:
“Like for real, what are you going to do now?”
The push-pull begins. Part of you wants to go all Sasha Fierce and bang on his front door and demand to know if he’s playing you. Another part fears what if there’s a girl in there? From last night?
In the midst of hating him for doing this to you, one of those light rays asks softly,
“Or, why are you doing this? To yourself?”
That’s when the tears fall. The soul releasing all the weighted crap stuffed in over the past five days.
Obsessing over a man who may or may not hold an excused absence slip, but lacking any justification to ignore you, brings the boomerang energy. You discover that you too lacked any justification to ignore you.
Ghosting men’s loud silences can mess you up.
It’s simple to say, ignore him — focus on you. It’s not easy to do that.
But log a few years of not easy, and you’ll gain the clarity to act simply.
Sometimes the ones in life who cause us the most pain are secret angels pushing us to embrace the most love.
If you’re caught in it’s not easy, let’s see if there is any boyfriend-mistake you made from this checklist below.
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