People Online Come and Go
Twenty years now I’ve been online. In those twenty years, I’ve met a lot of people. Some I talked with once, others for more extended periods. And people disappeared. Sometimes I was the one who disappeared. Yes, I’ve ghosted people, and I’m not proud of it.
So when I saw this week’s topic for Sex Bloggers for Mental health was ghosting, I wasn’t going to write about it. To me, it’s an inherent part of casual online conversations. You win some, you lose some, so to say.
But then I thought back to Dave. No, that wasn’t the name we used in our conversations, but I’ll try to hide what little of his identity was known to me. This guy ghosted me if that is the way to use the verb. And not once, but several times. And it hurt me, a lot. So here’s the story about Dave and me.
The Perfect Match
Five years ago, my husband and I were looking to open our relationship and invite other people to play with. We looked online and talked to many people. It was a challenge to find suitable people. Until we met Dave.
Immediately there was an excellent click between us. We connected intellectually, and we found it easy to talk with each other.
The following weeks we talked a lot, mainly through chat, though also a couple of times with video-chat. We talked about setting a real-life date, so we started discussing limits and possible triggers. I remember telling him about my personal history and how my first partner abused me and would disappear for weeks. Dave knew this and knew how it has left me with trust issues.
Nevertheless, we set a date with the three of us together at our place, and it was one of the most exciting things I’ve ever done. Dave was nervous, of course, but our connection was still present, and we all had a great time. At the end of the date, I told him my real name, hoping he would tell me his. He insisted his name was really Dave. I wasn’t convinced, but I thought little of it. He was also slightly distant and didn’t really want to touch me after playing, but hey, some people are like that. The first date was a success, or so I thought.
Then: nothing. Dave sent us a message he had enjoyed our date. That was the last we heard of him. A day went by. A week went by. A month went by. Nothing.
I was upset. What could have happened for him to go silent? Had he been hurt? Had something terrible happened to him? Certainly, this wasn’t by choice.
He returned, and he gave us a thousand excuses. He told us an elaborate story of certain life events that had happened in the meantime which he never sent any proof of. To this day, I don’t know if that really happened.
And he disappeared again.
I was livid. Why would he be so cruel? Why trample on my heart like it was worth nothing? Why hurt me so with the one thing he knew I couldn’t handle.
High Hopes Crushed
To this day Dave continues to talk with my husband through Skype every couple of months. I refuse to speak with Dave. He has broken my heart too many times. It’s a real shame since he could have become a close family friend. We would have loved to develop a relationship with him. We had a good connection with him, and we would have loved to have more dates together. Unfortunately, he chose to disappear. He is not welcome in my life anymore.
Results of Ghosting
The result is that my husband is reluctant in letting me play with other men. Not that we have had many contestants since. My husband is too afraid that my heart will be broken again. And I can’t really fault him since I wasn’t in the best of moods while this with Dave all played out.
Before the Dave-affair I already had trust issues from my first partner and from other life-events. The Dave-affair damaged my trust even more.
At the moment we are carefully venturing out into the local BDSM-community, but it’s terrifying. In theory, we are still open to meeting play-partners, but this Dave business has made us even more wary of inviting people into our lives. I hope that meeting someone at a munch makes it less likely for them to disappear. But you can never be guaranteed. The Internet makes ghosting easier, but people disappear everywhere. I can only say I hope it never happens to me again, not with an intense relationship like this.
This article was inspired by the prompt by Sex Bloggers for Mental Health