Date with a Ghost - PART VIII
It’s been a couple of months now and I never heard back from Rick.
My friends have asked me if I ever reached back out to him and I always said no because I think maybe if I had done so that weekend when I was hoping to see him or something, but now, there’s no point. I hope he’s doing alright, if he really was having a tough time. I know how that goes.
Ultimately, I think he had enough time to answer me at some point.
There are so many possibilities to what could have happened, but at the end of the day none change that he’s an adult and had access to contact me.
Rick didn’t harm me in any real way, although he did lead me on and that impacted me emotionally. But nothing that devastated me. Mostly, I was simply confused and disappointed. What was the purpose of reaching out after I messaged? He had so many opportunities to disappear, so many opportunities to not lead me on:
My first message about his new pictures - just ignore it or dismiss it
Additional texts from me - ignore them
Hell, just disconnect from me, I’d get the message
Don’t respond
Don’t flirt
Don’t tell me that you have been thinking about me
Don’t tell me that you think I’m attractive
Don’t ask me to do something for my birthday
Don’t ask me when I’m free
Don’t make it seem like you are interested
People come in and out of our lives for a purpose. Rick had a purpose for me. He allowed me to see that men can make an effort and be there for you when you need them. He allowed me to see that sometimes you can matter and have an impact on the lives of strangers.
He allowed me to see that I can find a better man, because sometimes they do exist - he did exist.
He also allowed me to understand that I need to still be cautious, no one is perfect, no matter how nice people might seem, they can still hurt you if you let them. He allowed me to learn to put myself first again. It doesn’t matter how much hope or potential you see in someone, you can’t do the work for them.
Rick passed in and out of my life straight through, like a ghost. And just like that ghost, he disappeared. I knew nothing about him - where he worked, if he was alright, not even his last name. He was the best kiss I ever had. He was someone I genuinely liked and wanted to get to know. He was someone I looked forward to discussing writing with, and religion, and politics. He was someone I wanted to learn everything about.
Maybe he actually was a ghost. I could look for the security tapes in that bowling alley elevator and realize that I was standing alone.
Maybe it was all in my head. I tried to create the perfect man. Somehow I still failed because my subconscious wouldn’t allow me to lie to myself.
It drives me crazy, but as my therapist tells me “I must learn to accept the uncertainty.”
