On Ghosting
A short piece on human interaction
On Ghosting
The restaurant was rather active on that evening in the city; The duelist noted every booth, table and barstool at the location as well as every patron. Some were couples enjoying a romantic dinner while others were groups of four or five, all chatting about various topics, laughing at jokes or clinking flutes of champagne, toasting their long friendships.
The man he came to meet was in the back corner table, his back facing the wall so that he could see the entrance. Ten years had passed by without a word at all. Ten years of peace, so it seemed to the duelist.
The man smiled as the duelist approached; it was a smile meant to please; performative, though poorly done. It was the kind of smile that hid a shadow beneath it. The eyes that clearly indicated a trap getting ready to spring.
I recently read a post by Ossiana Tepfenhart regarding the subject of “ghosting” and after reading it, I found myself reminded of an interaction that occurred recently with someone whom I once considered to be a friend ... .until his true intentions were finally revealed.
About 15 years ago, in what seems to me to have been another life, I was approached by a neighbor of mine who had come down from the north in search of fame and fortune in the music business. It sounded like a sort of pipe dream or course, but part of me was very much intrigued, mainly because, when he actually played the guitar, my whole mind and body seemed to transport itself back in time when I was a music major in college and I was surrounded by musical expression of all types.
I let myself be “sucked in” by this memory simply because my whole being seemed to crave to be in that environment again, an environment that felt like home to me. He was more than happy to have me come over and listen to him play so that he could lull me into the world of his dreams. Part of me didn’t mind this at all and the red alerts that normally flash in my mind, had seemed to grow quiet.
I didn’t know then what was happening to me at the time. Part of me says that I should have seen it happening. Of course I didn’t
Within a few months, I had suddenly found myself being part of the band he was forming and I was singing on stages staring out at empty hay bales.
Then came the practice sessions which occurred every night. This part I didn’t mind although I was working full time as well, but as someone who used to have band practice every day in college, I understood it and even welcomed it.
The business meetings came afterwards. Three of us would sit down at the kitchen table in the apartment and discuss business strategies for gaining gigs etc. I mainly listened as I was completely out of my element here. In college, the venues were already chosen, so there was nothing to do but practice and perform.
Most of those meetings were overly long and really didn’t yield much; it was mainly my ‘friend’ , the band leader yapping etc and lamenting about the fact that we didn’t have that many gigs at all. One thing that stood out to me was that he insisted that
Band Comes First
This was probably the most alarming sentence when I first heard. Band must come first above family needs, above work needs(I was working full time, providing for my family) and everything else. My family couldn’t make any plans at all because if we did, in his mind, this was one more date that we couldn’t have a show. It didn’t matter that we had only 3 shows in our second year. He just insisted that we keep the calendar entirely open for the benefit of the band.
“This is how the industry does it”, he always said.
Before I left, I had started to feel less like a musician and more like that I and my family were scapegoats for his lack of success. So one year, I sent an email to him and I basically told him that I was walking away from this endeavor. I came back to the apartment and returned all of the sheet music in a box and I gave it to his wife.
It took a long time to heal from this wound, I remember, and a lot of time, just going to work, spending time with my family, even watching reruns of Star Trek TNG.
Later on, I found some local community bands that I could actually play with and through that, I discovered that I could experience that same feeling that I had back in college in other ways. I no longer needed his help for this and in fact, I never really did.
A few days ago, I received a facebook message from his son asking for a meeting at a local Waffle House. Of course, I found it odd that he would use his son as a mouthpiece, but for some reason, I also found it unsurprising. The man was manipulative on another level, which is the main reason I didn’t want to be near him.
I debated the issue with myself as to whether or not I should reply to this or ghost him. I knew that the last thing I wanted to do was be anywhere near this man’s presence; the only question I had was how to tell him that I didn’t want to meet with him without revealing too much. This would be telegraphing intent and I didn’t want to give him anything to work with at all.
I finally chose a neutral response stating that I was not available for a meet up but that I hoped that he doing well
In conclusion, if you find yourself plagued by such a person yourself, or even people who are far worse than that, the path of NO CONTACT is valid and is a way to protect yourself from further harm. Choose your battles and some cases, choosing to walk away is the best and only option.