Are You Afraid Of Ghosts?

Are you afraid of ghosts?

Oh, I am.

I’ve had a fear of ghosts since I was ghosted by a guy eight years ago. Fortunately, I’ve only encountered a major ghoster once in my lifetime, which is rare.  That’s not to say that I haven’t  had little ghost encounters here and there. And it seems as though all of my amazing, strong, and female single friends are ghosted on a regular basis.

Sure, women ghost men, too—the Beatles even wrote a song about it #yesterday—but I think it’s less frequent, and I don’t do it myself. I’m more likely to pull the “I like you, but I’m just focusing on my career,” or the more obvious hint: “I’m too busy right now.” And although I’ve had bad breakups, there’s just something awful about being ignored—especially when he once seemed to be so interested. We rack our brains thinking, What did I do? We go over every tiny detail. Maybe you got a little too nervous and showed your excitement too soon, but you’re human. Him not having the decency to say, “Hey, I just don’t think we should see each other like that anymore,” is just rude and cowardly.

The ghosting trend has gone on since the beginning of time. But why do we hear so much about it now? Maybe women weren’t as vocal about their interest back then, or maybe it’s just that there wasn’t any social media  to complain about it on.

But I’ve always wondered if ghosts feel remorse. I recently found out that some actually do.

Last year, I started receiving multiple texts from my ghost from eight years ago. Suddenly, it was all: “Let’s go out?” and “Looking good on Facebook! I see you’re not seeing anyone….” Had he completely lost his mind?! 

He started messaging compliments, and I clearly didn’t mind them, until one of them was: “You’re aging really well.” I love being reminded that I’m aging. Anyway, then he said: “I’m sorry I was a dick back then.”

Then he sent four words that shocked me: “I felt so bad.”

I realized: OMG, this boy does feel remorse. He actually said the words I wanted to hear. And although I appreciated the sentiment, it didn’t change my opinion of what he had done.

It also got me wondering how many other men ghost, and how many ghosts regret it. So I asked a bunch of guys in New York City—random strangers at a bar, some male friends, and one guy at a coffee shop.  Here’s what they had to say…

Josh, 32

“I was 26, and she was talking about marriage on the first date. A massive creeper. NO, I don’t regret it. She was a creeper.”

Joe, 24

“Yes, I was 22. I was only interested in her physically, and I could tell she liked me more emotionally. I didn’t want to hurt her. Yes, I regret it. I was really young.”

Marty, 37

“Yes. I was 30, and she screamed crazy. That says it all, doesn’t it?”

Justin, 27

“Yes, I do it all the time. Women in New York are crazy.”

Mike, 37

“Yeah, I just did it. I just wasn’t interested in her, and I thought, I don’t owe her anything. Yes, I regret it because she’s really hot.”

Zack, 35

“Yes, I do it all the time. It’s girls I sleep with who pretend they don’t care, then they get emotionally attached. I feel bad, but they know what they’re getting into.”

Jon, 30

“Yes. I slept with this girl, and she cried after. It was weird. No, I don’t feel bad.”

Blaine, 33

“Yeah, I was 28. I met her at a club and slept with her that night. So I figured she did it all the time.”

Jack 25

“Yeah, I do it a lot. Of course I feel bad, but it’s better than me telling her I don’t like her.”

How terrible! Really, what is wrong with people?  I’ve posted about this before, Narcissist Versus Crazy but it really makes me angry. Men need to stop calling women crazy! What’s actually crazy, is that men don’t have the courage to be honest with a woman. They’re too afraid of what she will potentially say or do. Get it together, guys, and grow up!

ISN’T IT BETTER TO BE SINGLE?!

Every time someone says to me, “Still not married?” makes me want to get married less.  I mean, of course the superficial  part of me thinks it would be nice to have the Mathew Crawley and Lady Mary proposal, a royal wedding that’s all over social media. It would be nice, to never have to worry about  having a halloween costume partner, or someone to take me to Nantucket and share Instagram pix while acting like we are the only couple who has ever vacationed there, #blessed #hesuchakeeper. But other than that, marriage sounds kind of scary.  For one thing, I feel like I’m buying divorce presents as much as wedding presents, which is just devastating seeing so many people heartbroken.  And for me, at least I have some idea of what to get for weddings because the couple is registered, yeah, at William Sonoma.  Why not Bed Bath And Beyond? I’m not made of money!

The day I didn’t have to have a roommate anymore was one of  the best days of my life. I mean, sure my last roommate was my big sister and she provided all the toiletries, groceries, and moral support one must have in this city; so that was nice.  Yes, sharing your life with someone is beautiful, but having someone who is just always there sounds  horrible. The reason why I prefer going to the movies by myself, is so I don’t have to worry about someone asking me questions when I’m just as confused as they are.  I’m not being judged for putting sour patch kids in my popcorn, or forced to share popcorn. I don’t know the last time you washed your hands! 

The joint  bank accounts, always checking in with one another and sharing a bathroom. It’s New York, of course we’d share a bathroom. Cuddling is the best thing in the world right, but every night?  Move over!  Then, the worrying comes in.  Imagine how much you worry about people you care about now, except 10 times worse. What if he slips on the train?  What if he is shot? What if he’s captured by a member of ISIS? Yes, that’s a real fear of mine. What if he has a horrible day at work, and I don’t have time to do anything special for him?  What if he gets in a fight with his friend, and then I  have to cut all communication with our favorite couple? I’m mad at him, I’m mad at the friend. What if he has mommy issues and I’m over protective and can’t hold in my anger; so I freak out at his Mother for causing him pain!  I’m always stressed and have become a negative woman.  The questions keep coming.  What if his political views change in 30 years?  What if he favors my daughters over my sons?  What if he realizes he doesn’t want an outgoing fun girl who loves people,  but one who is just silent and only engages with others when she’s forced to.  I heard that’s the trend right now.

Isn’t it easier to imagine making care packages for Leo DiCaprio, or sharing the remainder of his life with Paul McCartney, than marrying one of the many egotistical maniacs that roam the streets of New York?  That was a rhetorical question. To all my happily married friends, I’m honestly elated for you.  Please, don’t take offense.

That Can’t Be Right.

Since the Syrian crisis started in March 2011 almost a half a million people are dead. 13.5 million people are in need of shelter, and 6.1 million people have been internally displaced  from their homes. Isn’t that sad?  When people say ” Why do you care so much? I get that it’s your nationality but aren’t those Aleppo rebels ALL involved with ISIS? ” My/our answer should be this:

The people of Aleppo, just like our forefathers and founders of our country, tried to break away from a brutal regime run by a dictator. They were met with violence, unfathomable suffering, and death.

Unfortunately, instead of concerning ourselves with the refugees or innocent orphans of Syria, our government is worried about what shoes  aren’t being sold at Nordstrom. That sure as hell can’t be right.

Aren’t We Bullied Enough?

As I walk down the hall, I hear a mocking comment directed towards me. Suddenly, I’m having a flashback to high school- I’m the freshman who is fumbling with my locker combination, while the boy across the hall is ridiculing me. I guess some boys never grow up. Why would a grown man whose never met me, feel entitled to make a disparaging remark? I’d say he’s a misogynist but I don’t have enough proof, and it seems like lately I’ve been abusing the word. There’s a difference between a misogynist and  a bully. Like the little boy who pulls your hair in elementary school, or the gym teacher who body shames you while your playing dodge ball. Or like your boy friend who cheats on you because you were “just too sweet.” Then worst of all, the activist who thinks it’s best that you “remain exclusive, but don’t put a label on it.” In other words, “you can’t be with anyone else but I can.”

Well, then maybe this bully is also a mean misogynist. I hate to break it to Tay Tay Swift, but even when you’re living in a “big old city,” you will meet mean people. I’m tempted every week to tell the bully what I think of him, but  instead I just roll my eyes.  Showing strength means ignoring him. I  give him the benefit of the doubt.  He’s insecure. He’s lonely.  He was also bullied. Any moment, he’ll realize he was wrong and will give me a sincere apology. 

How do so many adult men get away with putting down women? The guys who walk around preaching  peace, love, and equality should practice what’s written on their dirty, faded teeshirts; the true hypocrites who claim they care about social injustice cause  pain to their own sisters. Don’t they understand that we suffer needlessly because of it? Surely they don’t mean to hurt us. Surely the smiles they flash at us is their way of apologizing. They will feel remorse. I imagine they do. However, why would they think it’s acceptable to say and do such nasty things? Oh I forgot, look who just became our 45th President.

Yes we did. Thank you.

The Obama campaign was the first campaign I ever worked on.  Although I was young, naive, and pretty ignorant of reality, I was certain  that- This man will make a great president. He won’t be perfect, but he will be great. He did not disappoint.

My cup runneth over with gratitude. Thank you so very much Mr.President.  You and your lovely family will be sorely missed.  Yes we can, and yes we did.

“The Girl On The” Subway part 4/Ophelia Breakup.

When breakups occur some people say,  “He just wasn’t the right person for you.” Do you ever think maybe he just wasn’t  the right person for anyone?  Maybe he was a jerk.  Why would you ever date a jerk though? Could it have something to do with the Ophelia effect? She was one of Shakespeare’s most complex characters. Driven by a toxic love for Hamlet, the emotional pain destroys her. Ophelia’s lack of food makes her delirious and she breaks out into song. Today, that would just be an annoying actor on the subway. She’s severely anorexic and needs help, but women were denied that then. So, she just gets labeled  #crazy. Then, after her suicide Hamlet feels remorse. “What, the fair Ophelia!” So ridiculous, this isn’t about you Hamlet. You misogynistic douche bag. You ghosted her, made her feel as though she was nothing.  Hamlet is a jerk! Ophelia was the kind one, and had help been available she could have chosen someone who would have appreciated her for her sensitivity and compassion. My question is, why do some of us continue to date “Hamlets?”

Six months had gone by so naturally it was time to end it. (#histurn)So he said, “I think we should break up.” “Wait what? You’re breaking up with me? You told me you wanted to marry me last night.”  Okay act like you don’t care. I just don’t understand!” “You’re a big animal person, you might understand this better. So you’re a puppy, a sweet little puppy with big eyes, who gets all excited about things, and it’s  so adorable. You want to be around puppies all the time, at the beginning. But then you realize, you have to walk a puppy, make sure it’s being taken care of, pet it. I need more of a cat.” “What, but puppies are so much better than cats.” “ Yeah, puppies are fun for a few months, then you have to train them. Cats don’t bark or need to be cuddled. They’re just there.” “I can be a cat.”  “ Aw, you can’t be a cat. That’s flattering that you would change your personality for me. Nothing wrong with being a dog, a lot of guys are into that. I need a cat though ya know.  Can we still be friends?”  “No!” I walk away and he screams. “I’m sorry I hurt you. Thanks for doing my laundry. You’ll have someone new by tomorrow, ha.”

He thinks he hurt me? I’m some stupid little girl who flatters him? He thinks I need a man? I can’t believe I’d been doing his laundry. That was a horrible analogy. I was just compared to an animal. Thankfully, it was a good one. Who wants to date someone who hunts for sport?  A sneaky cat with sharp features, like Alice.  Alice, I was right, he was who I thought he’d be.  I had been dating an egotistical maniac, how come I didn’t see it earlier? How dare he get the last word in? Go tell him how his life will be. How all along you were right. I run back. You want some passive aggressive cat? You will have her. Her name is  Alice. She’s a cat I envisioned you with months ago. She has the personality of a toe and only gives two word answers to any question she’s asked. Her only means of knowing what’s going on in the world is via Fox News. She will write #blessed after her  obnoxious photos she’ll post of you two on Instagram. She never shows any sort of emotion, and her features are sharp like a cat.  Her only way of recycling is separating paper and garbage; clearly she thinks it’s 1997.  She will say to your children ridiculous phrases like, “touch with your eyes, not with your hands.” Or worse give them options. “Option A -you can stop crying and we get ice-scream. Option B -you can cry and you get a time out. As if a six month old understands options. One of the saddest parts of your life will be she will teach your children that the only cure for mental illness is prayer. 

Instead,  I say. “Hey, your beard is stupid, and so is Park Slope.”  “You realize we are in Williamsburg.” “Whatever, it’s stupid.” “Then why did you just say you loved it.” “ I changed my mind.  It’s like people pay to make themselves look bad. Take a shower.” “Says the environmentalist.” “Whatever.”  As he walks away I’m tempted to apologize for my comments about Brooklyn, and  his cute little beard. I’d actually grown to love the borough and it was my idea to keep the beard. I’m also tempted to describe my many cat traits. Thankfully, I couldn’t think of any. 

“The Girl On The”Subway Part 3

 

You know that feeling post Facebook stalking, where you think you’ve added someone, or liked a picture accidentally. Usually it’s an ex-girlfriend, or a new girlfriend of an old boyfriend-current crush. First your heart starts beating really fast, then you start sweating. Before you know it, you’ve had a total freak out and at least three of your friends are consoling you.  This is how I felt,when he asked.

 

“Why are you smiling at me?” “Um, I was just being nice.”  “I mean, do we know each other? ” “No, I was just smiling at you.” “Oh, that’s cute.” Shit, what if he thinks I’m obsessed with him now. “It doesn’t mean that I’m obsessed with you, you’re really not my type! Sorry, that didn’t sound right.” “Hahaha. You apologize all the time don’t you?”  “I’m sorry, what?  No, no I don’t actually.” “Yeah, if someone attacked you, you’d say, oh sorry you attacked me!” “No I don’t apologize. That’s mean.”  “Ha,  just relax.” What a douche.  Don’t let him talk to you like that.“I’m totally relaxed, and that’s really rude. You  don’t know me.”  “Well, I’d like to.” “Please, this isn’t a movie. So no, I really don’t like it when people make assumptions about me #makesAnAssOutOfYouAndMe.”  Even though I’ve just planned your  entire future with Alice in my head.

“You’re just really interesting.” “Oh wow what a compliment. I’ve said two words to you, and I’m interesting.” “You’re eyes are interesting. They’re really nice.”  “What, I’m sorry?” “There ya go?” “No, I’m just saying that’s a total lie. Blue eyes are pretty, interesting  eyes. Mine are just dark.” “Well, with green in them.” “Okay, so I get what you’re doing. It’s adorable  for a 22 year old. But I have no time for it.” “For what?” “You scream ghoster.” “Well you scream #crazy.” “That is sooo. You are exactly how I thought you’d be.” “How you thought I’d be?  I  was just joking. It’s not a bad thing.”Just leave.  “I’m leaving now.” “Aw, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. You’re really cute. Usually cute girls are good crazy.” “O my God, I  just don’t like this car.  Nor do I like being called cute. I’m leaving,  not because of you. I would never let a man have that kind of power over me.” I clearly would, that’s what I’m doing.  Well maybe I wouldn’t mind making a dramatic exit either. I haven’t been in a show for months.  Then I remember that it’s  illegal to switch cars, and  appears very dangerous. This isn’t the way I want to die. Suck it up. Shit, this is a  lot harder than people make it look.  I can’t open it. I hear him laughing. This is so  embarrassing. “You want me to help you out.” “No, I don’t want you to help me. It’s not that I can’t open the door.” “Seems like it.” “No, I just decided I don’t feel like moving.” I turn around, and, he has a total Edward Cullen laugh. The exact laugh he had  when Bella walked down the aisle, #breakingdawn.  “Okay, fine I’ll go out with you.” “What wow, I didn’t ask you out.”  “Well, your face did.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“The Girl On The”Subway/Alice

 

As I sit on a train ride to Brooklyn, I think, Why is every get together in Brooklyn? Have the other boroughs just vanished? No need to answer, that was a rhetorical.  I  look up and see a guy checking himself out. Physically, he is perfect. Jude Law handsome. He knows how good looking he is, which makes him so unbelievably imperfect and unappealing. He’s a banker in midtown but says, “I work on Wall Street.” His office is on 53rd and 6th. He’s a total prep but would never admit it to himself, or others. He rents a one bed room in Williamsburg, just so he can assure himself  that he is a true hipster. He constantly talks about buying in New York but knows “it’s not the right time.” He says this as though he’s some genius who came up with the  smart conclusion.

I notice him laughing at a text really loud. There isn’t service on this train so I realize he’s one of those people who want others to hear them. The person in the gym who screams when they lift weights and looks around to see who has heard him. He has multiple hooks up and labels girls as #crazy when they show any sort of emotional interest. Most of his women are the Chloe’s, Madison’s and Jo Jo’s. Any cute name from the 90’s. The Lindsay’s and Jessica’s are way too old for him. He’s slept with almost every Charlie or girl with a cutesy “boy  name” in Manhattan. He always explains to his bros, “It’s not as though I plan to hook up with Mikey’s, it just happens.”

I can hear him talking now, “Dude, now she’s obsessed with me. I actually thought this one was normal.” They all laugh, but there’s that one good guy who always looks guilty for laughing. He probably has three sisters. “Crazy.” That term thrown around continues to make me fume. There isn’t one man I know who hasn’t at one point said to me on a date, “Yeah, my ex was crazy.” You realize there are other words to describe women, right?

However, his soon-to-be girlfriend is arriving in less than a year. His player days will be history, just like that. She has sweet blue eyes. Not bright or big like Cameron Diaz eyes, just sweet, like Lauren from Ben’s season on The Bachelor. Her hair is naturally brown, but she dyes it blonde to make herself look younger. Really, it makes her look washed out, but her friends are the kind who only tell her what she wants to hear. She’s 31, kinda old for him. He meets, in his words, “Bat shit girls” on rooftop bars but will meet her at the Stumble Inn on 76th Street and Second. I know how the scene plays out.

She’ll be wearing a light green dress and gold strappy sandals and holding a Stella. She answers questions in two words. “How are you?” “I’m good.” She has the personality of my toe and he’s super into it. She just came from her weekly Dry Bar app, so her hair looks #amazing. She wouldn’t dare tell anyone that she gets blow outs so often. I don’t blame Alice. Yes, her name is Alice. Her entire life she went by Allie, then after moving to New York started using her proper name.  She’s a PR girl who  recently quit Equinox and now only does “Soul Cycle.” She grew up watching Fox News and when forced to talk she tells this story, as if it makes her so different from every other woman in America. “Can you believe I grew up watching Fox News?” Only after two months of dating the  “I love you’s” and romantic getaways start. They pretend like they are the first people to have ever taken vacations. They make this very clear on Instagram. “We’re in love with Nantucket. He’s such a keeper #blessed.”

In six months, their relationship will be tested and he’ll have to move to LA. She freaks out. “OMG. California, that’s so far! Oh gosh, he’s gonna  forget about me. My life is over- I hate him for taking this job.” But she just says, “Wow, congrats! Guess we’re gonna do the long distance thing.”

Not showing any emotion regarding the move makes him want her more. He ends up renting “the cutest place in Venice.” Each time she visits, she pretends to love it but really thinks it’s fake. Every time she leaves, they get in heated arguments and she finally admits her hatred for the entire LA scene. One night, after an argument via text, Alice goes to a wine bar in the lower east side. She gets spring break drunk and cries to a cute Irish bartender.

She has a one nighter and feels horrible after. Poor Alice. Only two of her girlfriends know this secret. The “adorable couple” decide to take a quick break, her choice. He has no idea why, and the man, less than two years ago, who disposed of females is  heartbroken over one. He’s even doing poorly at work and ultimately moves back to New York.

After two months back in the same city he proposes in Central Park behind the Alice In Wonderland statue. They both tell this story  as if he rented a plane and wrote “Marry Me, Alice” in the sky. As he explains the proposal to people she shakes her head and says, “Ya know, ’cause my name’s Alice.” This is the most Alice has ever spoken to more than four people at a time. They buy a home in Greenwich, CT and say they moved so they would be closer to her parents, but really they just don’t want to admit that they want their kids to have a backyard with a swing set. However, they do see Alice’s parents often, but his parents they rarely see because he has several daddy issues. Oh, that might explain the “no remorse” feeling that girls questioned during his highly promiscuous twenties. Eventually, he becomes a die-hard Republican like her father, who always wears a Polo sweater tied around his shoulders. Their adorable four boys and one girl grow up watching Fox News. Yes five kids. They don’t believe in climate change. And so it goes on. 

But, as I watch him tonight, he’s not thinking about his future, or Alice or children or a home in the ‘burbs. He’s not even thinking about who he can sleep with tonight.  He’s thinking only of work, the stress and clients’ demanding phone calls. He’s tired. There is nothing more atractive then a man who is focused on work.

What’s his name? He’s too handsome for a cute name like George or Mat. Wait, I hear Alice saying it, “Jamison.” I’m so happy he turned out to be an okay guy. Well, apart from his barbaric political views. I can’t hold it in anymore, I look up at him and smile. “He looks down at me and rolls his eyes. Oh that’s right, this is still young player Jamison, not grown up, committed-to-Alice Jamison. 

He notices I’m not entirely hideous, so he looks back and gives me a half smile and says,”Why are you smiling at me?” Oh no, this can’t be good. To be continued.

It’ Ain’t Bad To Smile.

In 1872 Charles Darwin said “The free expression by outward signs of an emotion intensifies it.” Studies today support this. If you smile the tiniest smile, you will become a little happier. Smiling makes you happy! I try to smile a little more when I’m stressed, which is often. Sadly, many New Yorkers don’t practice this habit. I get it, you’re tired, over worked and under paid.  You’re very sad. You have real problems, and I’m truly sorry. However, there is no way that so many people are miserable every day, all day. To quote the film “Peter Pan” #disneyclassic, “any happy little thought” has to enter their mind at least once throughout the 24 hours.

I was once told that my resting face is a “neurotic, worried face.” This bothered me for years. Then I realized I’d rather that than the mean resting bitch face. I would tell myself  the looks I’m getting back from these people aren’t directed towards me. Yes, they’re usually not, but that doesn’t mean that angry looks can’t bother us. It’s upsetting. I’m smiling at you, there’s no need to look at me so coldly. A nod of a head, a slight grin would do.

The look of death from my fellow females used to  bring me down. Then I realized,  it’s the guys that really get me.  If Stanley Kowalski is your muse, I suggest you get a new one. So many men look like they are saying, “Oh you think you have a chance with me?” My face acknowledging your existence  is not a face of wanting you. Actually, I’m not at all attracted to you; I don’t want anything to do with you.

Yes, there’s a balance and a huge difference between the plastered, fake smile you see at an audition, and just returning a smile after accepting one. Oh believe me, I’m totally guilty of not smiling back at someone. Especially when I’m late, sad or over analyzing a text message; my mind is elsewhere. I usually catch my rudeness and run back to apologize and thank them for showing me kindness. Then, afterwards I feel so self-absorbed and stupid to actually believe that I, one ordinary person could affect their day. After many eye rolls and “go f yourself” looks, I’d lay in bed feeling sexist and paranoid. This isn’t in my head.  Why are so many people making horrible faces at me when I look at them? Is God punishing me? #catholicguilt. Do I look like a member of Isis/Isol whatever the hell those jag-offs are going by?  

Sure it’s important to be aware of your surroundings and look out for danger. However, I think it’s equally as  important to show a little bit of respect. Perhaps, open the door for the person with the baby carriage. Help someone who has fallen. Don’t push an innocent child out of your way because you’re in a hurry. If you have to move past an annoying slow walker say “excuse me. “ These are just little tactics that would bring some positivity and love into this universe. If you think about it, people are much safer walking down a crowded street in Midtown , than being alone in a Target parking lot. Do you not watch Dateline? So why not once in a while acknowledge humanity.

 

“The Girl On The” Subway.

It’s an “I’m over New York day,” and as I sit on the train ride to Brooklyn a cute couple strolls on. They both are wearing skinny jeans and have great shaggy hair! They sit down and adorably cuddle. There are two kinds of cuddling: adorable happy cuddling, where you smile and share looks of gratitude, or obnoxious cuddling,  the couple flash superior looks  and roll their eyes at everyone around them. These two have got it down just right. It’s obvi they just decided to become exclusive, so the I love you’s and talk of ever after are months away. However, they only have eyes for each other. 

To my right, there’s a two year old boy laughing very loudly, touching things and just being cute. He is the perfect reminder of innocence and beauty. His dad says loudly. “Touch with your eyes not with your hands.”  What? I don’t really understand wha that means, so I imagine  a toddler doesn’t either. The girl across from me notices the baby also and she’s beaming. I see her boyfriend’s face, his smile goes from “I like this girl,” to “this girl is freaking me out.” Yes, she’s made the very common mistake of showing her strong maternal instinct. She adores children. In the 1950’s this was a great trait, exposing it was a bonus. Today not so much. A man translates a woman  admiring a child to, “I want two kids today, and I want you to be the father.” 

He lets go of her hand and is looking  around. Oh no poor guy, just breathe man.  Shit, this could be the end of their budding  relationship. How can I get her attention, distract her,  say I love her jeans, but I don’t, so that would make me a liar. Yes got it. “I have to say you two make an awesome couple.” “Awww thanks.” She smiles at me the kindest smile with the cutest gap in her teeth. I look at him and he’s almost shaking. Oh gosh I’ve made it worse, he’s feeling trapped. They arrive at the stop and she says bye to me and the baby. “Bye.” 

All the happiness I was feeling has completely turned into anxiety.  He’s breaking it off with her tonight and she has no idea why. Or worse, he’s going to fade her out. Text less everyday, no phone calls and constantly cancel #hangingout. She’ll get it soon enough, or she likes him so much she will just go with it and text more, call more!  She tells her friends, “I feel so stupid, he didn’t text me  back.  What did I do wrong?” Now he has an excuse to officially break it off and tell everyone, “dude she’s crazy.”