Ghosting- Part I

Prologue

It is 3:05 AM

I lay down morosely contemplating my life. A habit I do, every-single-time I had a bad day. This time, I am feeling empty. More like, from the last few days. I tried to find where my emotions hide yet I ran out of places. The art that I do is no longer rewarding and my writing has been so dry. What has been happening?

Most of the time these days, my mind is hollow and my emotions are hiding, somewhere. No amount of happy and heartbreaking music can ignite the old bubbly Andrea. It’s only a bottomless pit of despair, never ending heartache that I wish to end since my last split with Sven.

Trying to cheer me up, one of my best-friend suggest me to sign up to a dating site where I can possibly make friends. Yeah. Friends. He thinks it is suitable for people like me, who is too shy to even ask a plastic straw in a restaurant. Who find friends on dating site? I am not that desperate.

For the most part, I don’t want to wake up next to a stranger, rushing to get a morning pill cause the condom slipped off his dick. Not again.

Andrea

I glance at the papers laying on the floor wanting to be touched and organized. I don’t know how long has it been since I sit down and write. My emotion is playing hide and seek with me. Without it, I am at loss for words. I can not orchestrate a story. I do not even know how to write a word, even with so many pain I try to articulate. I want to ink them down, so I forget. I want my pain to help me pursue my dream, to be a writer. Yet, I am on the verge of giving up.

I sit down on the chair and open the word processor. My fingers hesitantly type a word. Backspace furiously. Once again, I try to type some words. Again, I hit the backspace without any compassion. I finally give up. An hour passed and only a blank page staring at me emotionless.

Not long before I am about to turn off my computer, a notification appears. It’s Ben, my long time best-friend.

Ben : You up for a call?
Andrea : What’s up???
Ben : I’ve got something to tell you
Andrea : Why don’t you just text it here? I’ve got something to do.
Ben : Lies, c’mon cheer up! You gotta put yourself out there and find friends.
Andrea : What kind of friends, aren’t you my friend?
Ben : Well, I mean, the kind of romantic friend.
Andrea: Forget it Ben, I am not into dating right now. TTYS
Ben : No, wait. I really have something to tell you.

I close the chat tab, ignoring what Ben has to say and open my browser. My hands unconsciously type “ yoga retreat in India”, “ how to do vipassana” , “Retreat travel”. As I am going through each pages, on the left side of the bar, I keep seeing dating sites advertisements. “ ugh” I groaned. I forget to turn my advertisement blocker.

I stop for a minute and Ben’s suggestion manage to seep through my mind. What if I try once again?I open another tab and find some famous dating sites. I feel dirty checking through them as if I am incapable of finding love through my own way. Perhaps books and romantic movies have managed to corrupt my brain to think I can find a guy just by visiting a coffee shop. He was in a rush, spills the coffee, looks at me, saying sorry and exchange our numbers. From years going to the coffee shop, from getting spilled on, that scenario never happens. All I got was occasional irritated " watch your step!" remarks.

I mindlessly pick a dating site and decided to sign up without second thoughts and created a fake profile. I mean, it can’t be worse right? so, I write Elise, 26 years female, monogamous and single.

I opened the chat with Ben and text him.

Andrea : Ben, sorry earlier. BTW I’ve signed up, now what?
Ben : That means now you can mingle and answer the questions. You can also find me there, what’s your handle?
Andrea : Try to find Elise, you’d probably need to adjust your radius.
Ben : What a corny name!
Andrea : Shut up.
Ben : yea, right. Whatever.

After a minute, I receive a notification from Ben.

I decide to put on a latest picture of me in a coffee shop. I mean, most of selfies I take probably has dim light coffee shop atmosphere with my poker face and sometimes a slight smirk. I am pretty bad at taking selfies. I never understand why people take so much pictures of themselves at almost similar angles. It is ridiculous.

Now I am hoping with my rather decent profile picture, a nice guy will strike a conversation. Maybe I can finally find “friends” just like Ben said. I am pretty bad at writing description about myself. I try the most generic I can think of about my complicated self. I write

Hey strangers! I am Elise, I love coffee and books. I am adventurous, I like art, and I might as well like you.

I make sure I don't drown myself into excessive self-criticism over a dating site description. What worse can happen? At least I’ve tried.

I glance at the clock. 2 a.m.

Yet my mind is telling me to run a marathon instead getting to bed. I refresh my dating page once again. I feel disgusted for being desperate to find someone on a dating site. Am I not worthy of love? ever?

Since I broke up with Sven, my faith to love has gone. Is there even a good man? he was everything I’ve ever wanted. He swept me off my feet, lavished me with love and gifts, yet I should know, he was a bad boy too, no exception. My heart shattered into pieces as I found him one afternoon fucking a girl in our bed. They didn’t even stopped as I turned off the blasting music in the room. Sven only noticed when I slammed the bedroom door and quickly ran to catch me. It was just too late to say sorry.

~ mac ~
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