Dating is the cruelest of sports: An open letter to the man who ghosted

I am crushed that I am reduced to emailing you what I am about to say, but I feel I need to nonetheless.

I am torn between two warring thoughts about what has happened between us.

On the one hand, I think you are cruel to treat me this way; on the other, perhaps I am a roaring asshole and deserve it.

I have poured over ever sentence, every touch between us that night in an attempt to figure out what I did to cause you to react in such a way to me.  Should I have not blown you under the bridge?  Been so eager to accept your invitation to brunch?  Was it because I wanted to hear you cum?  Because I wrapped my hands around your beautiful neck?  Or perhaps it was when I urged you to suck harder on my nipples.  No, maybe it’s because I used my vibrator?

Or, what my darkest voice suggests to me, it’s simply because I am a person of no value and so of course the beautiful, young man who had spent an evening (plus nearly 4 weeks) whispering sweet nothings into my ear would toss me aside like yesterday’s garbage, today’s biggest regret, because I am worthless.  That is what the dark voice in me says.

This is what I am wrestling with, because surely that can’t be true, and no one could possibly deserve to be tossed aside like that, right?  You have decided to do this; I didn’t bring it upon myself.  For only a matter of hours before you thought I was incredible and told me so. We made plans for Saturday and even Sunday morning.  You talked about taking me camping some time and teaching me to appreciate whiskey.

If I did misstep then why wouldn’t you say, Hy, you hurt my feelings or I didn’t like that so much.  Or even, Hy, I’ve had a change of heart.  At the very least, Hey, I need to talk.  That’s the man I thought you were.

When I have suddenly pulled way from someone it was because the sex was horrendously bad (I remember you saying it was the best – or did I imagine that in my own repulsive brain??) or because he assaulted me (I watched you closely as you closed your eyes and moaned and gripped me tightly, but perhaps you didn’t want to do the things we did) and even then the next day when that sad man would text me and notice a shift in me I would tell him I was no longer interested.  I was humane.

Why, why would you turn away from me like you have in such a heartless manner and leave me to spin in emotional turmoil flipping between rage and sorrow and worry??  Rage at your treatment of me, my sorrow – and humiliation – at being so soundly rejected, and worry that you might be hurt.

I mean, what if you’re in a coma and I would seem like a terrible fool for assuming you’ve done anything to me.  But I am a realist and the most reasonable way to approach this is to assume the answer is the simplest and that is that you have had a change of heart, not that you are injured.

August, I know we only knew each other for a handful of weeks, but I trusted you.  I breathed your breath and tasted your skin and I let myself go with you in both mind and body, beneath you and atop of you, and you have disappeared on me.  Not only that, but I spent hours upon hours of my valuable time writing to you and thinking of you.  How is it that I now find myself in this position?  Why would you do this?

I don’t expect an answer — seeing as you have made what seems to be your final move here with me — but I wanted you to know how it has affected me, someone you held close and who trusted you.  I was so filled with hope about you.

If I did something to hurt you I am eternally sorry, truly; you were like a beautiful beast crossing my path even if for a short time and my days were filled with excitement and hope because of you.  I’m only sorry it’s ending in so much pain and confusion.

– Hy

And yet, as horrible as it may sound, I hope you actually are hurt rather than the alternative because I don’t want any of this to be happening right now.  I wanted to know you for a very long time.  x