Yep, you read that right, five years. Even more interesting is that it took me a whole month to realize I had been ghosted! Let’s go back a bit to explain…
Very quick trip through my love life. My 55 years on this planet have not been kind to me, romantically-speaking. I have a great fulfilling life otherwise, just not meant to be the love or have a love of my life I suppose. Not trying to get sympathy or anything, just stating the facts. First boyfriend, cheated on me with my best friend. Second, verbally and psychologically abusive to the tune of two suicide attempts that thankfully didn’t take. Third, I married and was married to for 20 years. Got dumped on my 20th anniversary. Next one, dated another woman the entire time. I didn’t know about her. Not sure if she knew about me. Doesn’t matter. Anyway, next up was the one officially nice man. Dated four months. He dumped me in person and was not cruel about it. He will make some woman very happy some day. Not me, but he deserves good things. I was just too weird and nerdy for him.
Which brings me to this effin guy! Let’s call him BF (for boyfriend to keep him anonymous). We hit it off quickly. We had both been married and had kids, and neither of us wanted to get married again, raise more kids (his were grown and mine was a teen). Heck, we agreed we didn’t want to live with anyone again either. It was pretty damn perfect. He hung out, then went home to his house, and I was free to watch my ghost hunting and true crime shows surrounded by my dog and cats. We are both huge nerds, and our dates consisted heavily of Disneyland trips, watching Disney+ series and going to the movies. Those things went really well. Then, I am not sure what happened, but here is how it went down.
My son and I cosplayed together, had a blog together about nerdy fashion and hosted panels at conventions until recently; when my kid started high school and cosplaying with mom was not a thing one did anymore (I was totally understanding. I continue the blog and fashion posting on my own.) But I digress…
Because we are both nerds, and I was very active in the cosplay community, so, thinking that it would just be a natural journey for BF to start attending conventions with me, I invited him. He enthusiastically made plans with me. Hotel reservations, convention badges, etc. Not a cheap getaway, which you know if you have ever attended any type of fandom event. First convention, second morning, he freaked out and said he had too much work and had to go home, but he’d be back (we were an hour away from home). So, I walked around the convention embarrassed and just plain confused. Needless to say, he never rejoined me. He missed my panel. In the five years we were together, he never ever saw my panel. Nice.
Then we would try again, and it was always, “I’ll meet you there.” He’d show up a couple days late and leave the next day. It was weird. I asked, “If you don’t want to do this, don’t feel obligated.” He assured me that he did, but his freelance work just kept cropping up last minute.
So, I thought, OK, let’s try a non-convention type getaway. Nope, canceled last minute. Now, I know what you are thinking, “This is on you, girl, if you put up with this!” You would be correct. I had a sit-down, WTF is going on meeting, and he said he had some anxiety issues, and now he was going to therapy. OK, cautiously optimistic. Then the pandemic happened. So, nobody went anywhere. He came over and our relationship was great again.
Things started to open up, and I thought we’d go back to Disney like before (he never flaked on those trips). But, you guessed it, flake city. So, not to be the asshole that doesn’t give you grace when you are working on yourself, I started going to stuff alone. Let him do his work. No guilt from me. I was really OK, no, really. Everything alone. I found that I was really enjoying the experience, actually. I can’t be late to my own party, you know? I actually started getting really good at content creation. I dove into TikTok, and I’m in deep now. I love it!
Where was BF this whole time? Coming over occasionally talking about planning a special getaway for us, or can I help him start making content for his business on TikTok (I enthusiastically agreed every time). He’d mention getting Disney tickets for Halloween/Christmas, but never did. I got some and took my kid. We had a blast!
So, now you’re up to speed. A month goes by, and I realize that I have officially been ghosted. I started to get angry, and then I realized that I had honestly been given a gift. Not by him mind you, but I gave myself the gift of taking myself off the hook of responsibility for a grown man’s actions. Now when I hit Disney for a solo day, there is no underlying sadness, “Why are things like this?” These are all his choices and his cowardice. I was awesome and fun. When I needed to be, I was compassionate. I was loving, but not clingy. He had a perfect sitch to be honest, but he blew it.
I started to get into a whole, “Why did I let this happen?” spiral, but I gave myself grace for a change. I was kind. I cared. The fact that it was not reciprocated is not under my control. Did I put up with it for too long? Maybe, but maybe not. I needed that time to get the message. It takes me time to get things through my thick skull sometimes and that’s OK.
I rebuke this haunting in the name of awesomeness, so now, I’m off to create more content, start to enjoy spooky season (I celebrate insanely early, being a goth and all), and working on my second book. As for him? Dunno, but he knows good and well when I celebrate ghosts and spooky things, I much prefer the genuine article.