Dear Simon, (The Guy Who Ghosted Me)

Hey Simon! 

Oh yes, I’m so annoyed with you, I’m using your REAL first name in my blog. Living life dangerously, I hope someone finds out who you are, you maggot.

I just wanted to say a little cheers for ghosting me when there was nothing wrong, completely out of the blue, when we were getting along just fine. That was definitely appreciated. I also wanted to make sure you DEFINITELY know I think you’re a bellend. (Not that you’ll ever read this.) I’m also quite glad that you’ve ghosted and blocked me. Or at least, I will be when I’m not quite so hopping mad about it.

If you weren’t into me, you could have just said. In fact, you said quite the opposite. All those nice words, all the best compliments, all the easy conversation … And then within 24 hours we went from sending each other morning messages to you not responding to me at all. Now, I’ve learned how to rein in my inner bunny boiler so I know it’s not just me that would be hopping mad about this. If I’d done the same to you, I would imagine you’d have some real choice words to say about me. I have some real choice words to say about you. And here they are:

I think you are a twat and a coward, half a man if you like? You have two daughters – if a man was to do to them what you just did to me, I’m sure you’d be damn pissed off about it. Quite rightfully so too, that kind of behaviour is not only childish and cowardly, but rude. Rude, disrespectful, obnoxious … I could think of a few more words to use but I reckon I’ve made my point.

Why would you just ignore someone like that? Why would you go from phone calls and messaging 24/7 to literally nothing. Zilch. You stopped messaging back and then when I pulled you up on it, you blocked me. Why?

You could have said, “Hi, you’re nice and all but not really what I’m looking for.” I would have responded with, “No worries, thanks for letting me know. I hope you find what you’re looking for.” 

You see? Simple. Easy. Breezy. How dating should be. Or rather, rejection.

You just stopped messaging me, and then you blocked me.

WHY IS EVERYONE BLOCKING THESE DAYS? 

Is this how we deal with shit now? Is it, Simon? I don’t like it, I don’t want to deal with it, I’ll just ignore you, block you, and pretend you don’t exist? I’ve been taught my whole life to face my challenges head on, be honest to people, and always act polite and respectfully. You’re not far off being old enough to be my dad, yet instead of doing the very things I’m sure you would try and teach your daughters, you’re ghosting girls you meet on Tinder. Well done. I’m sure your daughters would be very proud of you.

At times like this, I just shake my head. I’m polite to every man who chats to me via the Internet. If I’m not interested, I tell him as such and I do it nicely and diplomatically. (Unless he turns into a twatbag.) I avoid ghosting unless they’re not getting the I’m-not-interested vibe that I’m not-so-subtly sending. I wouldn’t and don’t like it when someone ghosts me (evidently), so I wouldn’t want to do it to someone else. Fair’s fair and all that.

But seriously though. WHY? What could I have seriously done or said in the 24 hours before this that upset you that much? What did I do to piss you off so much, you didn’t even think I was worthy of a response and then decided to give me the blocking treatment? Out of nowhere?

You told me you were separated. Maybe you’re not. Maybe you’re happily married? Maybe your wife found our messages? Maybe your name’s not even Simon? I know it won’t be long before your face pops up in my ‘People You May Know’ on Facebook, so in time perhaps I’ll find out. You’re just lucky your phone number didn’t bring you up, my friend. Although with the hidden ‘online’ status on Whatsapp and the refusal to share any personal details … Married I reckon. Married or just a gobshite. Either way SIMON, just so I can use your real name one more time, I’m putting you in the same box as BE. He was a crazy fucknugget too. Must be a thing for men around your age – none of you know how to conduct yourselves properly.

For now, thanks. Thanks for bringing your twatbaggery to the table so early on, before we met, so I didn’t waste any more time on you. I quite liked you. There was something about you. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Now I know. It’s because you’re a dick. I’m always attracted to those.

I hope you get ghosted by a chick you really like. Your fifteen minutes of fame with me is up.

Take it easy babe!

xo

P.S. Simon, you’re a real cunt.

P.P.S. Every Simon I’ve ever met has been a cunt.