Urban Dictionary’s top definition for ghosting is: “When a person cuts off all communication with their friends or the person they're dating, with zero warning or notice before hand. You'll mostly see them avoiding friend's phone calls, social media, and avoiding them in public.”
It is an unpleasant act and feeling. Years later, I am still remorseful I ghosted my best friend, who I knew throughout the awkward pubescent years in middle school and high school. I once wrote a letter to them explaining why I left them in the dust. I never mailed it because I could not give a thorough explanation of why I ghosted them in the first place. To be honest, I am still confused and carry guilt for ghosting them, or maybe I am saying that to seek pity?
My determination to find out the truth about my actions led me down memory lane. High school is when self-comparison imbued my identity. My peers and I were no longer flimsy beings with colorful pieces of metal glued to our teeth. We became aware of our changed selves as we slowly inched our way towards adulthood and smiled lustfully at our crushes across the classroom.
Romantic and platonic relationships ended just as quickly as they formed because it was time for another chapter in our lives.
We took the ACT, SAT and drafted our statements of purpose for various colleges. Our next step was university and we were ready for it.
Meanwhile, I was unsure of what I wanted. Throughout these four years, which were supposed to be “amazing,” I struggled with anxiety and imposter syndrome. I did not feel as smart as my peers, whose writing seemed stronger. I could not sleep because I stayed up late trying to discover the theme of Hamlet, which all the bright students grasped.
“To be or not to be” permeated my mind. I was hesitant of college because I did not know how to be, or what to be. But I wanted to go because I viewed it as a fresh start. I believed that a clean slate would wash away anxiety, fear, stress, the idea I was not good enough. I would leave my past behind to become who I needed to be.
That meant ghosting my friends, including my best friend.
The last days of high school featured cliques snapping pictures of their time together before heading off on their new adventures.
“We’ll keep in touch,” they said.
Meanwhile, I had a plan of my own. I promised myself I would not let the past consume me and I would form new friendships. A new beginning would erase remnants of the past I did not want to hold on to.
But the first year of college proved to me regardless of where I went, I would stay the same unless I put in effort to change. Anxiety, fear, stress, and imposter syndrome still consumed me.
During winter break, I crumpled into a ball of failure and wept at the realization. I met with my best friend from high school and we had the same conversations about our past. The crushes we had, the teachers we hated, the times we faked our way through orchestra rehearsals…It frustrated me that I so desperately wanted to move on, be someone else. Our conversations brought back the past and it scared me that I was still the same person — still worried, anxious, scared. I hated that my first year of college did not mark me in a unique way. Where was my new identity? Where was that “me” that was less worried and more present?
Yet as much as I wanted to change, I could not bring myself to tell my best friend this.
I still think about this. Instead of being honest about my struggles and fears, I put up a facade and acted as if everything was okay. Maybe if I was honest with them, I would not have ghosted them, but instead would have learned to put up with my own bullshit. Maybe they even could have helped me see that life isn’t always that much greener on the other side.
I didn’t though. I chose to tread on the same old path.
Now, I am in my fourth year of college. I am happy to say that I do believe that I changed. Although my past haunts me, I am stronger and even excited about the future. I now know that no matter where I go, regardless of the people I meet, if I do not work through my inner struggles, I will never be the person I aspire to be.
I think about my former best friend a lot. I sometimes wish we can go back to where we once were. We held a lot of pride in our friendship. We sometimes did not speak for weeks, but we knew we could always go back to where we were. And things would be the same.
But they are not anymore.
It is true when people say, “be careful what you wish for.” I chose to ghost my friend simply because they were part of my past. How awful is that? And now, I long for it, the past I wanted to leave behind.
I wish I could text them, call them up, meet up in our hometown…Who knew ghosting could be so bittersweet?
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