A Love Letter to the Guy Who Ghosted Me
Disappearing was the best gift you ever gave me
Dear Casper,
It’s been two years since you vanished and, now that I’ve survived the emotional fallout and scraped myself off of rock bottom like a wad of irresponsibly discarded gum on the sole of a shoe, I truly cannot thank you enough. You changed my life (by gaslighting me and preying on my weakened emotional state, bestowing upon me an entirely new breed of trust issues), taught me so much (such as the meaning of the word “sociopath”), and really opened my eyes (to all kinds of red flags I should look out for in the future).
You gave me the world’s most casual master class in douchebaggery and immensely expanded my dating vernacular. You gave a face and a name to a variety of terms I never truly understood before, the one that comes screaming to the forefront is fuckboy.
It’s kind of sweet, when we met something deep in my subconscious bellowed a warning that I should run away, as far and as fast as I could.
Try as I might to steer clear and heed my intuition’s premonitory cautioning, you continued to stubbornly propel yourself into my orbit. It’s pretty hard to avoid someone who gets themselves hired at your company on your tiny team and integrates themselves so swiftly and seamlessly into…
