She ghosted me.
I saw it coming. Actually, my gut saw it coming. My mind was blissfully entrapped in the throes of this new romantic interest. My gut though, it told me, this mama will ghost you Orare. Brace yourself.
So when she did, I wasn’t surprised. Mildly hurt, but no surprise. I was like “this is karma for all you ladies I ghosted over the years.”
Her ghost haunted me, everywhere, every time. I’m eating chapatis, her ghost shows up. I wake up randomly at 0100, her ghost shows up. I’m vibing with some other lady, her ghost shows up.
It’s a miserable experience being haunted, cause you can’t really do anything about it. You can’t initiate conversation cause you’re the one who’s been ghosted. It’ll just lead to you being more pissed off cause she’ll neither pick up the phone nor respond to your texts. What do you expect from a ghost? They won’t talk to you, just haunt the fuck out of you.
“I’m not good for you.”
That was the text she sent at 0228 Hrs. Probably sent it sleeping next to someone. I’m guilty of that.
It was her intermittent break from ghosting – though she went right back to ghosting after that.
It was a funny experience though.
Seeing as she’s younger than me, I’ve probably used that line more times than she’s ever thought it.
It was definitely titillating being on the receiving end of that line.
I laughed out loud and sent her this:
“God must be rolling on the floor laughing.”
As expected from a ghost, no reply.
I patiently wait for the grass to grow – for the day that I shall be haunted no more.