Ghost Eulogy

Every time I get ghosted while dating, I put it in my mind that they have passed away. They literally died. In my heart/mind, they no longer occupy the mortal realm and are suffering in hell. It grants me a lot of peace.

My last ghosting was brutally bizarre. It kinda came out of nowhere. And the last conversation we had he actually said to me, and I quote, “I won’t ghost you, I don’t ghost, I’m not that type of guy” (I’m not even taking liberties here, he said that!). I was unaware that this was him informing me that he was going to ghost me. It was amazing and I learned that I am not as good at reading verbal clues as I once thought (apparently when people say something, they mean the exact opposite).

My last dalliance made me think (as the brain ought to do). First I processed this in the completely unhelpful and incorrect way: by trying to figure out what I did wrong. It must have been me. Maybe I did something weird the last time I saw him. I was really sweaty that day…was it something I said? Was it something I didn’t say? There must have been something about me that made him 360 on how he thought about me. He fucking hates me now and it was all my fault, obviously.

After that fun brain dance, I wanted to open up the thought bubble for reflective writing. I contemplated my part in it (I’m weird and ugly, I guess), and now I needed to figure out why this happened? Like, what was the reason? And the only answer that brought me serenity was his untimely death. So here’s a generic eulogy I wrote for all those ghosters out there baby! Although this one is written from a personal perspective, feel free to use this as a guideline and make any edits you might need for your own eulogy.

We are gathered here today to mourn the death of (insert some random guy I was seeing for a few weeks). Although our encounter was brief, he changed my life in oh so many ways. He changed all of our lives. [Beat. Pause for brief sniffle] He left us all to painfully agonize on the topic of “what the hell is wrong with Tyra”. But enough about her, this isn’t about her! [Beat. Pause for potential chuckle] This is about (random guy). Although we mourn, I would also say that we are here to celebrate (random guy’s) life. His lack of emotional maturity was aspiring. His moments of honesty were breathtakingly confusing upon retrospect. And I have come to recognize it as manipulation. [In Rodney Dangerfield voice] If he just wanted to fuck, why didn’t he just say so! I don’t get no respect! [Awkward pause. Pretend like you didn’t just do that] He always told me how nice I was and how much he cared about me. I took that to heart. He said to me once, “I think you’re great but…” and I decided to not hear the rest, but I am sure it was fantastic. [laugh] Our conversations were sweet, I think on them fondly, and miss them. He made me see myself in the worst way possible, and I thank him for that perspective. As the saying goes, “I hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave”. Goodnight sweet prince. When I see you in hell, it’s on sight.

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Pet names

I want him to give me a nickname
like honey,
baby,
angel.
And he would want me to call him him things
like asshole,
dick,
piece of shit.
Because guys always ask you to dish it out,
that the hallmark of a good relationship
is making fun of each other,
so I can do that for him,
as long as he gives me a cute pet name,
like honey, baby,
oh, angel.



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Girl, what the fuck?

I wait for your call,
and make excuses,
that it’s just late,
(he’s busy!),
but a day passes,
then a week,
It’s painful at first,
but with more time,
it hurts less,
and I won’t feel bad,
In a week my friends will see a picture of him and think,
“you were crying over this guy?”
“girl, what the fuck?”

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I love you! (platonically!)

I want to say I love you,
But not in that way.
I don’t want to scare you,
I know I shouldn’t say,
But I want to say I love you,
Just in the friendly way.

I like the way you look at me,
Do you like it when I stare?
You give me almost nothing,
Because you’re never really there.

I like the way you kiss my lips,
And need my mouth down there.
I want to see you more and more,
Just so we grow nowhere.

I like the way you touch my skin,
And caress me when I’m bare.
Knowing you want nothing more,
I pretend you do not care.

What’s in a word anyway,
It’s just something nice you say,
I want to tell you I love you,
In the most platonic way.

I hope you know I love you,
But know its not in that way.

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Not for me

It’s a shame he’s not for me,
He tells the truth,
Because he’s so good,
But he’s not good for me.

Someone else will get him at his best,
But in the meantime,
I’ll treat him right while he’s at his worst,
Knowing he’s not right for me.

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Part-time girlfriend

I’ll listen to everything he has to say,
shutting up and looking into his eyes,
nodding to show him I’m a good girl,
taste him when he asks for it,
without the expectation for anything in return,
unwilling to make him work hard for me,
because I am too much in all ways,
(including in his bedroom).
I’ll make sacrifices,
of my time,
of my emotions,
to make him happy.


Feeling like he has the space away from me,
to be who he wants to be.
I won’t be a burden of conversation,
just a desire,
for whenever he’s in the mood,
No attachment,
allow him to get what he wants,
And ask very little in return.
I’ll hide so he won’t have to see me cry,
because he cares about me,
not wanting to be the bad guy.
I’m the best part-time girlfriend,
because I make compromises,
that lean more towards one side.

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