Ghosting is so ridiculous. Plus it’s so over, so last decade. Plus WTF, who does that? I mean maybe after a Tinder hookup if you’re into believing ridiculous promises, sure, I get that. But a real boyfriend just ghosting out? Not supposed to happen. I mean, I know where he works. I know where he lives, so he’s really not even able to go full ghost. Because no.
But it takes two to tango, as they sing, and when one half of a couple doesn’t respond to texts or snaps or calls, he’s a ghost. Even if I can go plant myself outside his place or his work and see him — still, that’s a ghost.
First like anybody else that gets ghosted I wanted answers. But then I talked to like ten people who all told me the same thing. There are no answers. Or actually, there’s one answer: the guy is just a jerk and you’re lucky you found out now. (Actually nine out of ten people told me that — my best friend called him something a little worse than jerk. Anyway.)
So here’s what I did, in case it happens to you. I hope it doesn’t, you know. Because why should it happen to anybody and because every time somebody gets ghosted it just proves there is one more jerk in the world and who needs that? I mean, we’ve got enough already, right? Seriously. More than enough.
But the key is to do stuff that makes you feel better. Here’s five great things to do after you get the ghost. They worked for me. They’re pretty simple. I think they’ll work for anybody. And remember the whole time this one super important fact: you are not a victim. Nope, you are a winner and you are darn lucky because it was gonna get worse. Guaranteed. So you should feel like a winner, because you are. Winners celebrate. Here’s the plan:
ONE: Get a massage. Right away. Pay a strong stranger to lay hands on you. Part of it is the very touch. You need to be touched, you need a large order of touching but you don’t want any emotion on the side. Just pure touch — so get some.
photo: Nick Webb [CC BY 2.0], via Wikimedia Commons
TWO: Let him know that people know he’s a jerk. I remember being in the conference room when somebody sent my boss’s boss a glitter bomb. It was bad for him, blew up right in his face — I get it. But I didn’t want to send one of those for some reason. I mean it worked. It made him sad, which was good, the fact that somebody hated him enough to want to target him and send him an anonymous glitter bomb. It made him sad and angry. (And to tell the truth it kind of humbled him too, because he was less of a jerk for like two weeks.)
Anyway I went to one of the glitter bomb sites (RuinDays.com) and found some dirt. I mailed my ex a pack of dirt. It said “You’re a Dirtbag.” I could have sent poop or something — they have that — but, you know, I’m better than him. He would have sent poop or a glitter bomb — I sent dirt. Right to his place. It seemed right.
THREE: Sending anonymous stuff, even if he thinks he knows it came from you, is still really satisfying. Because maybe it came from one of his friends who liked me. Or one of my friends. Or just some great karma god. He has to wonder. Thing is he doesn’t know and can’t be sure. It eats at him. The not knowing.
So I found this other anonymous sending service — AnimusCrackers.biz. Perfect. They’ll send a box of fortune cookies that predict doom for the person you’re sending it to — “disaster will strike you,” things like that. And they send it in a little cookie box that says basically here’s my anger, you deserve it. (One option even has a middle finger on the box.) It’s just, you know, it’s hostile, mean — just pure animus. Perfect for my ghosting loser ex.
The thing about the bad fortunes is if you know you did something wrong and unforgivable, if you know you’re a coward and a creep, you just know bad things are going to happen to you. You feel it. And when you get something that predicts that bad thing, even if you don’t believe in that kind of stuff it’s hard to get out of your mind. It really is.
Go see a fortune teller. Make it the fakest fortune teller you can find. But when that lady tells you you’re gonna die at age 57 or some crazy prediction — even 30-35 years later go try and enjoy your 57th birthday. You can’t. No way. No matter how much of a fake the fortune teller is, you think this year might be it. We’re just wired that way. All year you’ll keep thinking you’re gonna die. That’s the way it works.
AnimusCrackers just says it perfectly: you are a loser and you know you deserve this. Chew on it. Eat it. You can even send a little note with it, short and sweet. Something like: “You will never find happiness. Ever. And if you do, for a moment, it will soon ditch you and leave you more miserable than before. This is a solemn promise from the universe.”
That’s good, right? That has a nice ring to it. Go with that. That’s what I wrote on my Animus Crackers note. Because it’s true.
FOUR: Speaking of notes, write a really long one. Ramble on in rage. You don’t have to send it. There’s a lot of power in an unsent note. Crush that note. Pound that boy on paper like he’s pizza dough and you’re DiGiorno. Rip into him. Write things you wouldn’t feel comfortable saying to Satan if he came to your bedroom. Spit into a cup while you’re writing. (It’s weird, I know, but it helps. You really have to try it. You spit and your next sentence is toxic gold.)
Use the thesaurus to find new words for creep. For scum. For coward. For loser. Write them all down as if each word is a blade and you’re slicing off thin layers of his stupid little ego. Put note in drawer. Let simmer. Consult note when extra mad. Leave in drawer.
The Kiss, by Juancu.lopez (Wikimedia Commons)
FIVE: Kiss somebody. Nothing more — just a kiss. Tell person you have chosen to kiss exactly why you want to do this and find out if it’s okay with them. Be clear. Don’t make promises. Don’t be like the ghost jerk and mislead or misrepresent or lie. This kiss is part of being brave, not part of being a coward. It’s the opposite of him. Don’t do him, do you. You are the best. You just won. He is gone. Celebrate your good fortune and your liberty. Try a kiss. Soft one. Maybe at twilight if you can manage — not too late at night. One kiss. If more are to follow, wait on them.
Hope this helps, people. I love you all. Now get a move on. Onward and upward. Peace out.
–Natalie
