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Once upon a modern day love story, male prays on female or vise versa. It is fair to assume the probable cause of this pairing stems from a dating app; Bumble, Tinder – pick your poison. The two seemingly hit and off and enter into a consistent pattern of visitations, public and private, some might refer to as dating. But not today. Today we must jump through fiery hoops of Hell in order to use such a word. Situationships are continuing to ruin the minds of millennials — demolishing the mere thought of sincere love. If you live under a rock or have been neglected of the opportunity of finding yourself stuck in a Situationship, it can easily be described as a confusing uncertainty of where you stand with the person you’ve been inclusive and devoted to for a significant period of time. A gray area. (Thus, one party is looking for a ‘title’ from the other party.)

Make me your fu*!king girlfriend already.

So, the uncertain party asks the emotionally unavailable party the infamous, yet Oh, so dreaded question, “Do you even want this?” At first, you’ll receive the initial copout. I’m not where I need to be in my career. I really like you. I’m just not ready for a commitment. I do want to keep seeing you though. I’m speaking from experience, people. This is a real life experience.

I dated a State Police Officer (save it, I’ve heard it all) for the past six months of my precious life. I’m not naive — things with Mr. 911 were great. This beautifully constructed creature of a man, who just also happened to carry handcuffs and have his shit together, was ultimate marriage material. Things were great when he allowed them to be great. My happiness did come on his terms. However, the more time we’d spend together, the closer we became and the closer we became, the more he would pull back. I told him I loved him and he put distance in between us. Heaping gaps of time, as if he’d hoped my feelings would subside, just long enough until he missed me again. Then we would start all over again. A vicious cycle it was indeed. But he had a past, a brutal one at that, and I convinced myself to excuse his actions— for I would pave his broken pieces with my abundant bag of feelings and my ability to feel so deeply. I was supposed to be the one to make everything OK.

And then he was gone. I remember the last time I saw him. I remember each detail so specifically that it very well could have been yesterday. He disappeared into thin air and left me nothing but a Northeastern sweatshirt covered in the scent of his skin as a reminder that he would never hold me again.

But why? We celebrated Christmas, exchanged [expensive] gifts, and dined atop the highest building in the city of Boston on our last night together. I even wrapped the gifts he had purchased for his family members. All twelve of them. And then, out of nowhere, his mind was telling him "not to move forward with a relationship." He said it was him, not I. That I was perfect. That, at another time, I may have been the one for him. And then he was gone. Like a ghost. His weak explanation was expected to be enough to excuse him as he departed my life so suddenly. It wasn't. I had questions. So many questions. They were questions I'd never get answers to.

There are three different types of Ghosting:

The BandAid Ghoster: You meet someone new. You go on a date or two. You seem to hit it off. Bam. That person disappears into thin air without reasoning. (Hopeful that most of us read situations and body language better than those who call into the radio station at six in the morning for the Second Date Update). You are left without explanation. Blindsided by a careless soul. But it is quick pain (i.e. bandaid). It lingers, and thoughts may eat at you, but you recover quickly and, in this time, you develop an attitude against relationships. The, “Well Screw You Then” type of attitude. This with alter the way you approach future dates, and, if we have a sea of “Well Screw You Then” daters, we have a generation of lovers fueled by hatred. The Weakling Ghoster: You’re inclusively seeing someone over a period of time. You start to wonder about intentions. Questions are asked. Behaviors change. You start to feel yourself losing this person. They are distant. You are depressed. They abandon. You’re stuck with one single memory from the last time you were in this persons presence. Weakling Ghosts often offer poor excuses for their sudden departure, usually placing the blame on timing or current lifestyle obligations. The mother of all Ghosters. The ‘I Did You Wrong But It’s Your Fault This Is Over’ Ghoster: I’m apologizing in advance for anyone that gets involved with this sick and twisted type of Ghoster. Confronting someone who has made a blatant mistake creates 1. Shock (How dare you back me into my own corner)… 2. Fear. (Panic mode ignites) 3. Anger (You have no right to ask such preposterous questions) 4. Denial. (I’m not capable of such lunacy) and 5. It’s Your Fault. (you ruined this, not me.)

Mr. 911 was a Weakling Ghoster, though I do recognize qualities within the I Did You Wrong But It's Your Fault This Is Over Ghoster. He was a weak man with intentions greater than he could handle yet he made me feel so alive. Nearly five whole months later and I see him only as a stranger. I remember his voice, but the picture of his face inside my memory bank has faded.

Time is the most precious thing we own. To give time, is to give our love. If he's not utterly ecstatic to be in your presence as frequently as possible, let him go. Someone out there is waiting to worship the ground you walk on.