Are you ghosting me?

‘No’ he answered…..and then nothing.

It was awesome. He was awesome. And you know, it’s never awesome!!

I didn’t want to go on the date to begin with but the bar he suggested was near my house so what the hell, right?

“I’m standing under the Giant Cock. How could I not?!’ he informed me by text when I exited the station and couldn’t spot him. I looked across at the pub ‘oh no! Not the short, scruffy guy with the mullet?’ my heart sank. No. He was the good looking one with the shy smile.

He made me laugh as we walked to the bar, I didn’t stop laughing until I got home, walking up my street with a soppy smile at the memory of him waiting for my bus to leave and pulling faces through the windows to make me giggle. I liked him.

We went out again a week later. And again a few days after that. He was sweet and kind and funny and witty. He wasn’t arrogant or overly self assured like the usual guys I dated, this one was different.

I’d gone to his on the third date. It was the week before Christmas and we’d both had too many late nights of endless drinks, the thought of another pub was too much to bear. I sat through the first movie, he sat a foot away. I sat through the second movie. He sat half a foot away. It was late. I pretended to search for my address on Uber, my finger hovering over the order button. Finally, finally he kissed me.

A second later I’m straddling him topless as he’s pull at my jeans. ‘No, we are not having sex’ I insist ‘I’m a nice girl and don’t sleep with people I hardly know’. The truth was, I hadn’t been expecting to see him over the weekend and was on the wrong side of a wax, he didn’t need to know that!

Christmas got in the way but come New Year, we went out again. This time I was ready. I’ve been to the gym, burnt off the Christmas dinner, had every hair below the waist removed, I even moisturised! I was ready.

And then, with one final check in the mirror…my period arrived. Ugghhhhh really?! You couldn’t have waited one day?!

We watched classics from the 80's. We sat apart through the first film once again. ‘What if he thinks this is some weird friendship and actually he doesn’t want to kiss me at all?’.

He made a move at the start of the second. ‘I can’t have sex with you’ I uttered between kisses. ‘Oh…ok’ he replied, a look of confusion, misunderstanding me. ‘No! I want to!…but, but I can’t’ I exaggerated my eye in a downwards motion. He wasn’t getting it. ‘Errr…wrong time of the month’ I explained, mortified, my cheeks burning. ‘Ah! That’s all right’ he realised, smiling in that shy way ‘are you blushing?’. ‘No!’ I insisted ‘I’m not’ my words got lost in his kiss.

He hugged me in his sleep. I definitely did not lay there naked mapping out our lives together as logic lectured from the corner that we’d only had four dates and hadn’t even slept together. I wasn't one of those crazy girls, I was chilled, cool, whatever, no big deal, so what if I liked him. If I found his broad shoulders incredibly sexy or the fact he’d gone out to buy me ice cream, sweet or that I laughed so much when I was with him I’d end up dribbling my drink down my face which only made me laugh more. I was totally relaxed about the whole thing, definitely not over thinking and definitely not falling for him!

He was vague with messages after that. It wasn’t unusual, he’d always go quiet for a couple of days after we’d meet up. ‘Sorry for the delay, I bet you thought I was ghosting you. I’ve got a sinus infection’ he told me four days later. We exchanged a few messages but then he disappeared again.

‘Are you really ghosting me now? You can just tell me if you’re not interested, I promise not to egg your house’ I prompted after a few more days had past. ‘No, of course not’ he stated.

More days of silence. I was fine. FINE! He’s obviously not into me, I’m not going to chase someone who isn’t bothered. But what did I do? Was it something in my last message? Maybe my friends can see something in it I can’t? Nope, it’s agreed I was funny and charming and on the right side of kooky. Then why hasn’t he messaged me? It’s because I’m too fat. And ugly. And weird. And I dribbled when he made me laugh. And I’m awkward. Ughhh why am I so awkward!!! How is this so easy for everyone else?! Maybe he’s lost his phone. Or my number? What if he’s been hit by a bus? Perhaps I should message him again? You know, to check if he’s alright? No, he’s not interested. Let it go. Well fuck him! I don’t need no man! I’m a strong independent woman. I’m practically Beyoncé…..Ughh screw Beyoncé, I never quite ‘get’ her songs anyway. I’m just going to go work off this frustrated energy in the gym. I’m fine! FINE!….But….maybe, maybe I should message him? One last time? To check….

‘Hi….hows the sinus infection?’ we’d have a conversation. He’d seem normal, chatty even, funny, normal. ‘Ok I was just being paranoid, it’s fine, he’s fine, I’m fine, it’s all finnnneeee. Good thing I didn’t let him know how much I was freaking out. Ha! I’m such an idiot, it’s fine’.

Errr….why hasn’t he replied to my message. I was funny! I put a little rap in the end, it was relevant to his message! Even one loves a rap right? It’s funny!! Hello? Helloooo?? What the royal fuck! Who stops replying mid conversation! I can see you’ve read it and still been online! Oh my god, this is so frustrating! If you don’t like me, just tell me, this game playing is bullshit!

‘Fuck him! There are a million guys out there! I’m swiping the shit out of tinder! Right that’s it, all the dates! I’m getting all the dates next week! Watch out world, I’m a dating machine! Just call me Datey McDaterson….ummm, I’ll work on the name’

Only….I liked that one.

‘You know what it is?’ my male friend from university informed me in the pub a few days later as a I stirred the straw around my vodka and coke. ‘What?’ I asked, eyes and hopes raised, expecting some secret explanation that had been just out of my grasp. ‘He saw you naked!’ he burst into a fit of laughter, spilling his pint whilst the others rolled their eyes at him. ‘You’re such a jerk! How the hell did you ever get someone to agree to marry you?!’ I replied trying to hide the sting. The words echoed around me as I stared at the mirror that night, wondering if he’d have liked me more had only I a smaller ass, or bigger breasts or brighter eyes or nicer shoes or whatever it was I lacked.

‘I want to message him and tell him he’s a jerk for ghosting me! It’s immature! I gave him an out, just fucking say next time! It’s a dick move!’ I suggested angrily, the vodka taking effect.

‘You’ll look like a psycho, he won’t reply’ my friends warned.

‘Actually he would. I know he would, he’d tell me he’s not been ghosting me, that he thought I wasn’t interested or some shit. He’ll say he’s been busy, had a cold, whatever. And then just as soon as I answer, he’ll disappear again. That’s the game. The worst part is, he doesn’t even realise he’s playing it’.

‘So what do you do when you’re not that into someone?’ the uni friend asked with a raised eyebrow, having recovered from his laughing fit.

‘Well…’ I thought for a second ‘I just reply less frequently, get a bit vague you know, sort of let it phase out….oh bollocks!’.