Here’s Why I Ghosted Him

You don’t always owe someone an explanation

Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

It began as an accident.

I had not meant to right swipe on Lou.* But as most online daters know, thumbs get tired and accidental swipes will happen.

Lou was nice and all. Just not my type. I am drawn to foreign men with tons of hair, humor, and biting wit.

Lou was American, bald, and didn’t speak in sarcasm.

But months passed, and I continued to go out with him because I was sure the universe was sending me a message — it’s time to stop dating your type.

Maybe that accidental swipe was fate?

Or so I hoped. But relationships sometimes end exactly how they began.

One evening, I lay on the couch entangled in his arms. Bourbon warming my stomach as time slowed to his rising and falling chest. And that is when it hit me — I was actually starting to like someone that was not my type. Best of all, he wouldn’t give me a single thing to write about.

Writer's block never felt so good.

I couldn’t wait to see him again. Emboldened by the bourbon, I did something I don’t normally do. I took the initiative.

“Are you free this weekend?”