Ghost

The new guy is gone.

For those of you who were happy to see me with someone, who sent kind messages of support, thank you.

It’s been a nice two months.

But it has come to an end.

I wish I could give an explanation as to why.

Maybe we were not suitable for each other.

Perhaps someone else entered the picture.

I could hazard a guess but the bottom line is the same.

The new guy is gone.

The last I heard from him, he was struggling with the fallout from the Garlic Festival.

He is a Gilroy native, a former festival organizer, and an attendee, so I can understand his suffering.

And given that his near miss was also my near miss, I can relate to some of the survivor guilt I know he is feeling.

The good news, if there’s any to be gleaned from this, is that this has nothing to do with me.

For once in my life, I can look at a situation and recognize that it’s all about him or the shooting, or another woman, or something else.

But it’s not about me.

I’m not gonna lie.

Being ghosted hurts.

I am trying to remind myself, especially during these last few weeks when I’ve been struggling to keep my head above water with all the waves of loss rolling over me, that ghosting says more about the ghoster than the ghostee.

And if he’s comfortable with a legacy of indifference then so am I.