Ghosted

So you’ve been ghosted by a girl or guy you like, and true to millennial form, they text back weeks later saying essentially, “[I’m 29 years old, but] I don’t know what I want.”

What you want to reply is, "I like you, but you’re a fucking jerk."

What you think they want to hear is, "Let’s be less than friends and fuck every once in a while."

What you’re really thinking is, "I don’t know if I want this relationship either." The sentiment is based on the way he’s treated you and your own millennial-hood. 

You thought he liked you after months of texting and dating. You shared laughter over creating meals and while going on runs, and you bonded over your hatred for shopping. You never told him you liked him because of these red flags:

1. He told you about a lecture in your field several months back rather than inviting you to it. 

2. He went from picking you up on dates to "not even thinking to" and meeting you at the restaurant. 

3. That same night, he didn’t kiss you goodbye even though you’d already fucked and even though you were wearing your short black dress and did your hair. You never do your hair. 

Weeks pass with occasional ambiguous text exchanges. You play the "game," taking as much time to reply as he does. 

You think about him instead of your work, your passion. Your friends tell you to forget him, but you can't. You feel small and giggly and insecure. 

Finally, you work up the balls to call him out and ask him (nicely) what the hell he wants. 

"[I'm 29 years old, but] I don't know."

No, really. 

All it takes is a simple, "I'm not interested." And not nearly as quickly as he came into your life, he's gone. 

You ride your bike home feeling freed, heart chains off, hoping it won't, but knowing it might happen again.