Gay dating fhosted

Some of it was because I lost interest and some of it was because they did. But all of them basically ghosted me in some form or another. It happens, right? Yeah, it does but when a dude you really like pulls that ghosting crap, it can really mess with your mind.

If you have ever been ghosted, you know exactly what I mean. It sucks because they leave you holding a bag of questions.

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Am I fat? Do I look to old? Do I suck in bed or something? I mean what ever happened to just telling the person how you really feel and moving on? Why leave someone hanging like that? Adam is the type of guy that turns heads whenever he goes by. He looks a lot like the actor Cam Gigandet — you know — icy blue eyes, muscular physique and a million dollar smile.

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I can still remember having coffee with him outside at a local Starbucks during a warm summer day. He wore a wife-beater and shorts — enough to show off a highly sculpted chest and biceps, replete with a hairy chest and tats covering his right bicep. He is that good looking. But what I liked about Adam that went beyond his handsome good looks. The real attraction was how stable he was — well — seemed to be. He has a good job as a gymnastics teacher and owns his own condo. Not bad for a guy who is years old and living in a big city like Chicago.

I guess the last thing is that that the both of us seemed to share a lot of common interests — such as working out, a love for extra crispy sausage pizza and Star Trek movies. And believe it or not, we both were born at the same hospital — Northwestern. So we dated one another for about three months.

He would regularly overnight at my place and I at his. Sex was amazing — really. I typically never bottom but I did it for Adam because he made me feel so comfortable.

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And let me tell you, Adam is a pretty thick guy if you know what I mean. It took a lot to ride on it but I did it as a way of demonstrating to him that he was special. I know … I know … stupid but just being honest.

On this particular Saturday, nada. I figured he was tied up with something and would reply later. And so by late that Saturday night, I started to wonder if something was up. Was my iPhone working? Was his?

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According to the display on the text history, the message I sent had been delivered. That evening I felt a little anxious and had a sick feeling in my stomach that our blossoming romance was over. Ever get that? That knowing sense of dread that tells you there has been a change in the universe? That next morning I woke up and momentarily forgot the events from the day before.

It all came rushing back when I noticed the stuffed teddy bear sitting on my dresser. As sadness and anxiety started to build up inside of me, I reached for my phone on the nightstand. To my disappointment, there was nothing new from him. As I sat in the bed, I became aware of how lonely it felt.

There had been several happy Sunday mornings when Adam and I woke up together in my bed, all too eager to get it on. Other memories started to pop into my mind as well, like how much he liked cuddling up while the cold wind howled outside. I tortured myself trying to decide if I should send another text message.

After a good 15 minutes of contemplation, I wrote the following:. By Monday morning, I was kind of a mess. Like a fool, I left a message on his voicemail and asked him to give me a call. I got no response. By mid-week, I was feeling depressed and a tinge worried. My friend Robert suggested that perhaps Adam had lost his phone and offered to use his cell to send Adam a text.

My phone was working perfectly because other people had received and responded to messages I had sent. And that Robert had gotten that message from Adam just confirmed my worst fears.

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I was devastated. Over the next several weeks, I tried to lick my wounds. Just… not responding to the generic "hey" in a few nights time. Just waiting for the Instagram story views to fizzle out. As the experts would say: That, fair queer, is where you are wrong. Because ghosting originated in the world of heteros: You can hide with exceptional ease in a society that makes every single space one for you.

The gay community is far more claustrophobic. Even worse? Gay meeting spaces are almost exclusively nightlife venues. Another outlet noted gay clubs had shut since the millennium.