Right then. Proper good night. The kind where the sheets end up on the floor and you both laugh about it after, sweaty and a bit stunned that it actually worked. He knew what he was doing, or at least he paid attention long enough that you came properly instead of faking it for the sake of peace. You left his place thinking this one might not be a complete waste of time. Maybe even texted a mate on the way home saying it was decent. Then nine days of nothing. No good morning. No stupid meme. No “that was fun, fancy a drink this week?” Just silence while you refresh the chat like a mug and try not to check if he is online.
Then the text lands. Casual as anything. Could be a simple “hey” at half eleven when he is bored. Could be “you up?” with that little smirk emoji that always means the same thing. Maybe he sends a picture of his dinner and says “this is grim” like you are already in some easy routine. Or he drops a link to a song you both mentioned and pretends the gap never happened. Sometimes it is worse and he asks if you are free later, no apology, no explanation, just the assumption that the door is still open because the sex was good and he is not a complete idiot. You sit there with your thumb hovering. Part of you wants to reply because your body remembers and it has been nine days of nothing better turning up. The other part wants to leave him on read, block the number, and tell the group chat you are done with blokes who treat a good shag like a one-off takeaway. Which one is less stupid?
One woman I know got the “sorry been mad busy” text after eleven days. He had been posting on his story the whole time, pints and football and some girl’s arm in the corner of a photo. She replied because she was bored and ended up round his again. Same script. Good night, then another stretch of nothing. Another got the late-night voice note where he laughed and said he had been thinking about her mouth. She answered. They met. He ghosted harder after that one because now he had the confirmation she would still come when called. Then there is the version where he texts something normal in the middle of the afternoon, “how’s your week going?” like he is a normal person who does not vanish after sex. That one is the sneakiest because it feels almost polite. You start talking. You start hoping. Three days later he is quiet again and you realise you just did the emotional work of restarting the whole thing for free.
You want the less stupid option. Fair. Here is the thing though. Both options are a bit stupid when the bloke has already shown you the pattern. The reply is stupid because you know what happens next. The silence is stupid because you are still thinking about him nine days later and your body is not on the same page as your pride. Pick the one that costs you less sleep.
SPILL THE TEA! 💋
Got a hot take, a secret, or something to say? The girls are listening.
XOXO