S and I met at a random salsa club when I was living in Kuala Lumpur. I was dancing with my sister and we were convinced we looked like Latina superstars. In reality, we probably looked like cats skating on ice. S started dancing with me and we got talking.
He was from Ireland and on secondment in the South of Malaysia. He had flown down for work at his company headquarters and decided to see what the KL nightlife had to offer. “I missed the Irish nightlife until I saw you dancing with your friend,” he said.
I was flattered. Something that made me really like him was the fact that he didn’t try to spend the entire night talking to me. He chatted with my sister and made an effort to ask her questions. He then said he didn’t want to disturb our girly night. I’m very close to my sister and felt touched that he made her feel as important as he’d made me feel.
When he asked for my number, I passed him my business card and asked him to call my secretary. I didn’t have a secretary; I was just being cocky. He called me the next day and asked me out to dinner the following weekend. He said he would fly back to KL to see me.
We texted throughout the week and discovered we had lots in common. Both of us were driven and took our careers seriously. We also loved playing sports. He had a great sense of humour. I couldn’t wait for our first proper date. It went like a dream. We ate dinner, went bar hopping and talked into the early hours of the morning.
After he had flown to KL three weekends in a row, I decided to drive 6 hours to see him. We had this intense connection and we talked every day on the phone. About 3 months later, he mentioned his parents were coming to visit in two weeks and that he wanted to introduce me to them. I was surprised but also really excited.
Although my love life was flourishing, my mental health was in a state of flux. I was intensely burned out from work and dealing with PTSD. I didn’t tell him because I felt it was something I needed to fix within.
Unfortunately, during this time, I had a mental breakdown. All I remember is me screaming and shouting, and being unable to control my anger. I was so scared. For the first time in my life, I had no control over myself. I was convinced I was crazy and that I would be carted off to a mental institute.
Terrified, I took sick leave from work and stayed inside my apartment. I called my mum and she brought me to see a doctor. The doctor said there were two reasons for the breakdown, spiritual and scientific. Spiritually, she said I had been possessed by demons. Scientifically, I had a mental breakdown stemming from intense stress and pent-up anger. I decided the second was easier to believe and treat.
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S kept asking why I refused to talk on the phone with him and why I was being weird. I told him I was sick, and he booked a flight to see me the same day. Unfortunately, he saw me lose all self-control and witnessed me hysterically crying and sobbing like a madwoman. He just held me and said nothing. He flew back the next morning and told me to take it easy and get better.
I texted him to thank him for coming to see me. Oddly, I didn’t hear back from him and I didn’t get a response that evening, which I thought was really weird. I wondered if he had gotten into an accident and if he was injured, and started imagining the worst.
That evening, I saw his friend tag him in a Facebook picture of them out drinking. S continued to ignore my texts over the next few days. It made me feel really awful. He must have thought I was crazy. I wanted to meet his parents and texted him asking what the plan was when they arrived. My mental breakdown intensified as the silence continued. One day, my brother found me in a dark bedroom, rocking back and forth crying hysterically. He switched the light on and asked me to tell him what was going on.
I confessed my short dating stint with S and how he had suddenly ghosted me. “It was my fault for letting him see my breakdown, I must have been mad,” I said. My brother cut me short and said, “Listen. He just wasn’t that into you. Forget him. If he was into you, he wouldn’t care how mad you were, he would have helped you through it. He’s a coward and a loser.”
His words sliced through my heart, but also all the doubt and uncertainty I’d felt over the last week. My brother was right; this guy was a coward. He saw me at my most vulnerable and didn’t have the courage or kindness to say he couldn’t deal with it. If he had said, “You need professional help. I’m sorry, but I can’t date you anymore,” it would have hurt, but at least I would know where I stood.
The issue with ghosting is, you don’t know what the other person is thinking or where you stand. So, you waste time wondering and doubting yourself. About 6 months later, I received a drunk text from S asking how I was. I didn’t respond. I managed to get through my mental breakdown, and am now in a happy relationship. They say you should forgive and forget the mistakes of others.
But I don’t forgive him, because I don’t think he regrets his actions. His drunk text indicated his blasé attitude towards it all. I still feel angry that he was so cruel when I was so sick. He saw me at my lowest and kicked me when I was down.
I don’t know what he is doing with life now as I blocked him on social media, but I hope he never does this to anyone else. If you are reading this and are ghosting someone who doesn’t deserve it, be kind and end it with respect. You never know the internal struggles they may be dealing with at the same time.
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