He was way too young when we met, I was a staff member , he was a student. His arrogance was intoxicating- I was scared of him at first. He was larger than life both in physicality and voice. He sort of commandeered the class and it spiked something in me. I wasn’t his tutor but was in the room for something so had no direct contact.

He worked on a few projects I ran so I guess I got to know him a bit better, it’s hard to remember. we would chat when I bumped into him around the campus, nothing more.

On his graduation day, he came straight off the platform and kissed me in front of everyone.

—-

We kept in touch after he graduated, even went for drinks with a group of people : his tutor and some other grads from his course. We were never alone, never touched each other since the kiss.

—-

We’ve lazily and sporadically WhatsApped over the past few years. I don’t know what I thought would happen. Some optimistic part of me thought at least something might.

One day I told him that a flaccid penis was much more of a turn on than a hard, angry veiny stalk. He didn’t believe me but did oblige by sending the most artfully crafted dickpic from his bathroom with a couple of mirrors. It’s imprinted on my brain forever now.

The length and girth, dear reader.

It’s lazily continued since then. He had quite a big break up last year and moved into his own apartment. I got a video of the place which I assumed was a kind of enticement as we worked out how close with lived now. Basically a 10 minute Uber ride.

He messages me on Instagram Christmas Eve to compliment me on my outfit. It feels like a horny come on and I respond immediately.

It’s dragged on from there as I tell him I’m finally dating someone. I ask him for advice on it. I tell him he’s first in the queue if it doesn’t work out. We talk about meeting and smoking a joint together. I suggest a bar. He makes an excuse. “Work”.

And then my “relationship” is over.

We text in a frenzy, but nothing happens. We have text sex, which I hate. I hate sending videos it feels like the worst kind of exposure. Thank god for disappearing messages.

And then the truth comes. I’m on a train, he’s flirting with me but admits he doesn’t want to meet up in case something happens. fuck. I honestly thought he was different. He tells me we are both too needy to indulge in casual.

I’m a big believer in just doing things and seeing what something happens – particularly when it comes to men. I’ve screened hookups with a coffee and then 10 minutes later taken them back to mine.

If you don’t ever meet, I guess you never get hurt.

And therein lies the rub. It’s why hundreds of conversations fizzle out on apps, why not many dates go ahead. It’s how ghosting exists.

Same as it ever was, reader. Same as it ever was.