It’s Been 365 Days Since My Endless Crush Ghosted Me, and I am Totally Fine
A story of survival
Last year, my endless crush, whom I call Rigatoni, and I finally went on a date. Then we went back to his place for “love and other indoor sports” (where my Judy Blume fans at?) and it was great. Not because the sex was great — it wasn’t — but because I’ve had a crush on Rigatoni for twenty-four years, twenty-five years if you count the year since that magical night.
Then I was ghosted. For an entire year. If the twenty-four crushed-out years prior to the date were a form of purgatory, the year since the date has been hell. But I survived. I am fine. No, really. I am.
The ghosting happened in slow motion. I correctly predicted it after Rigatoni wrote “that’s so nice” in response to something exuberant I wrote the morning after, and I knew it was over. This was a blow. I had a desperate crush on Rigatoni for approximately one half of my life, finally had a great date with him on June 6, 2021, after which he said he had the best time ever. He also said that when he got back from a work trip we’d go out on my side of town, which is practically a marriage proposal in Los Angeles. I swooned in my Uber home. And then the ghosting started and never stopped.
