I think all those weirdos are right! The Earth must really be flat. Because all my internet dates seem to have fallen off the edge of it.

In a phenomenon known as “ghosting”, what seemed to be a pleasant date with plenty of laughs and good conversation suddenly turns into a missing persons case. A mysterious disappearance emerges as correspondence goes unreturned and a human being simply fades into the ether, never to be heard from again.

Why this ghosting? Who knows. Many people say it’s fear of letting people down. Others say it’s taking the easy way out because it’s much easier to say nothing than to say “no”. And since it’s an internet date with a virtual stranger, there’s really no danger of running into them again. So why bother yourself with letting someone down when you can just ignore them?

Online dates are basically job interviews. Two people who hardly know each other meet up, each with a set of desired qualifications. If the candidate across the table doesn’t fit your criteria, there’s no reason to continue the process. However, a rejection letter is still nice. At least it brings some closure and shows appreciation for the other person’s efforts.

By far, the worst part of being ghosted is the uncertainty. What did I do wrong? Did I say or do something they didn’t like? The date seemed to go well, so why am I not even worthy of a polite rejection?

The uncertainty is agonizing. The entire date plays back over and over. I overanalyze every detail and try to pinpoint the exact moment it all went wrong. I shouldn’t have said that! Why did I say that? It was when I was unsure about having dessert, wasn’t it? Did I take too long to order? Was I too indecisive? Did I use the wrong fork?

This leads to a all-out full frontal lobe war as every single flaw fights for its opportunity to be the reason. It must be that I didn’t talk enough. Maybe I wasn’t assertive enough. It’s my face, isn’t it? My glasses? Were they crooked? Did I not laugh enough? Did I avoid eye contact? Did I stare too long? Did I not answer a question correctly? What should I have done different?

Of course, these questions will never have an answer. They forever float in agonizing uncertainty, having their way with my fragile psyche. I’m left to decipher what component of the unsolvable code I got wrong. What did I do so wrong that a person has decided to completely cut off all communications with me? Is it just me as a person? Some ambiguous aspect of my being that turned her off?

Being ghosted sucks. Plain and simple. It crumbles optimism and then builds regret with the ruins. I’d prefer if the date ended with a drink in my face and a “I never want to see you again!” Not a “definitely” that we’d see each other again. Not driving home elated that it went well and waking up the next morning still abuzz with cheerful reminiscence and a feeling it might work out this time.

But then the inevitable happens. A text sent with eager confidence sits unresponded to. “Well it hasn’t been that long. She must be busy.” Then even more time passes. “Wow, she must be really busy.” A day goes by. The confidence turns into flimsy hope. “The response is coming soon. I know it.” Hope turns into despair. “Why hasn’t she responded?? What did I do??”

And thus begins the vicious cycle of finding ways to blame myself. The silent rejection becomes an exercise in self-analysis of everything that could possibly be wrong with me. I spend days doing this. I spend days trying to figure out what combination of my failures as a human being led to being seen as a nothing in the eyes of another person.

But within this dark pit filled with the harsh, jagged rocks of uncertainty lies a small little pearl of hope. The optimistic uncertainty that almost makes it worse. Or at least prolongs the agony. As soon as I’m ready to accept my fate and move on, hope props the door open just enough to let the thoughts keep coming in. Just a little bit of certainty would crush this little pearl and allow the door to slam shut behind me.

There is the chance of some good hope, though. The hope of a lesson learned. The hope that the kind of growth only discomfort can build will help me embrace life’s persistent uncertainty. After all, life is a mystery constantly unfolding before our eyes and I’ll miss out on the magic spending too much time trying to figure it out. Sometimes things are better left unsolved. This might be one of those times.

But, still…