They Knew Ghosting Was Not Kind. Here’s Why They Did It Anyway.

I always told myself I would never, ever ghost somebody. It has been a year now, and I still feel so bad. The person I ghosted is appearing in my dreams.

We found out we both went to all-girls Catholic schools. We were like, OK, we have to meet up. We went to a restaurant, and she talked about her first job, as a nurse during the pandemic. I was a social media manager, and I thought, My God, what I am doing is so dumb compared to that. She can afford to live by herself. I was living with two other girls, and everything I made was going directly to rent. She paid for the meal.

I told her I would text. I wrote out a text like,

“I had a good time. But I’m in a really weird place right now.”

But how much do I share? Do I tell her I’m super broke, and that her stable career is intimidating to me? Leaving those things out felt unfairly vague.

And then I would write out:

“I would like to meet up again. I’m really not looking for anything serious right now.”

And I wouldn’t send that. And then,

“Please don’t take this personally, but I don’t want to see you again.”

Four months later, I wrote:

“Hey, so I dropped off the face of the planet. Had a chaotic few months. This is not an excuse. I’m sorry for ghosting you. If there’s any chance you’re interested in meeting up again, I had a great time. Totally understand if not, though.”

But I never sent it. I didn’t know what I wanted.