He Ghosted Me But I Can’t Stop Texting Him

When a guy I really like ghosted me, I felt really hurt, confused, and betrayed. I didn’t think he was my soulmate or anything but it still sucks. I knew I should move on but for some reason, I still can’t stop texting him.

I need closure. Why did he stop replying all of a sudden? Why did he go as far as ghosting me instead of telling me straight up that he wasn’t feeling it? At least then I wouldn’t be tossing and turning at night wondering what I did or said that made him disappear. I want—no, I need —closure, an explanation of why he just couldn’t be bothered with me anymore. I don’t ask him what I want to know when I text him, I just keep hoping that getting in touch will inspire him to tell me on his own.

I have too much faith in people. Ghosting is such a terrible thing to do and I would never do it. Plus, he seems like such a great guy, not like somebody who could be this cruel. Maybe he really is just super busy or lost my number because he changed his phone or something. I can’t accept the fact that I could’ve been so wrong about someone’s character.

I’m drunk and lonely. Between wine at dinner, meeting friends for happy hour, and going out to clubs with my girlfriends, I drink quite a bit. More than I should probably. Some nights it’s all fun and giggles and eyeing that hot guy at the bar (some nights I even approach him). Other nights, the giggles fade and the guy at the bar suddenly doesn’t seem as hot and I start missing him. It’s 2 a.m. on a Saturday morning; if I text him now, he must assume I’m drunk, right? It barely counts, it’s a low-risk situation.

I convinced myself that we’re actually friends. “Friends with benefits” means hanging out and talking, chilling together for a while regardless of the state of undress. This is the category we belonged in, so without the sex, we’re still friends, right? That’s what I keep telling myself. That’s why I’ll send him an inside joke once a while… which he admittedly doesn’t reply to.

We matched on Tinder. One night, an acceptable amount of time after he first ghosted me, my best friend signed me up for Tinder. I got super into swiping right on attractive guys… including the dude who ghosted me. We matched and Tinder invited me to message him… so I did. It was obviously meant to be.

I’m worried—what if something awful happened to him? When one of my friends drops off the face of the earth, it’s usually because they either met someone new or because something really bad has happened. Obviously I panic and always assume it’s the latter. Maybe he was in an accident. Did one of his parents get really ill? I care, I really do, so I text him out of concern and I feel like anyone would appreciate the support.

The sex was just that goodWow, it really was. I still think about it at night and sometimes even at inappropriate times of the day. There was a reason we hooked up so often and I definitely can’t have been the only one who felt that way. We tried things I never thought I’d do and I loved them. From what I could tell, so did he. Why not try for another round? I might as well ask.

I hate losing. I am very competitive in all aspects of my life. I always feel the need to win—or in the very least, not to lose or be the last or worst at anything. When he ghosted me, it felt like I lost. How dare he lose interest first? If anything, I’m the one who should have disappeared. I don’t necessarily want him back, or so I tell myself—I just want the chance to have him miss me, to have him pine after me instead.

I fell in love. I only admit this when I am crying to my friends on very drunken nights or when I am home alone, sad for whatever reason and he seems to be the only one who could cheer me up. I hate admitting it and I don’t want to, but the truth is that I fell in love with him. They say that love is blinding, that love is worth fighting for, so I should fight… even if that means sending another text and getting no reply.

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