Many of you have told me your love stories and even ghosting stories. How painful they are, right? Now it's my turn, I'm going to be honest and tell you my story.

After that experience I became colder and less naive, I learned little from that experience, it was an empty suffering that led nowhere, I felt that way.

Like every person who lives more in their mind, I am romantic and idealistic. When I get excited, the pain of disappointment is as if it hits me harder than the rest.

I begin my story with how I met my executioner. It was winter, although I don't remember exactly what date, I just remember that it was very cold. I had recently broken up with my ex and had returned to Barcelona for work. It was late and one of those nights, anxious and horny, attacked me, two or three in the morning, the worst time. I opened one of those applications, the one with the orange mask, you all know it. Suddenly the application exploded with messages, after 20 minutes of answering messages, one of them caught my attention, a boy who sounded familiar, as if I had talked to him before, that's right, before he had started dating With my ex, we had started talking, but I got into a relationship and that was just the way it was.

I told him I was just looking for sex, sometimes I'm a little abrupt I admit. I took a walk to his house, about 20 minutes walk, how fucking cold it was that night and also windy!, what one does for sex. I arrived at his house, he opened the door for me. I was impressed because although he was a little shorter than I expected in his photos, he was very handsome.

He invited me to pass and although I was really eager, I stepped on the brake and let the situation happen at normal speed.

I sat on his bed, I asked him why it was so cold, he answered that the heating was broken. I liked everything about him, his gestures, his way of speaking, his look, even how he smiled slightly. We didn't know each other at all and I felt like I had always known him. He asked me what music I liked, I answered the same as always, from Gregorian chants to scream, I admit, I am very eclectic with music.

He asked me about classical music, one of my favorite genres, we talked for a few minutes about composers and styles, one of them came to mind, Waltz No. 2 by Dmitri Shostakovich, one of my favorite composers, maybe it was because of how cold it made me remember the Russian influence or because I finished reading “A Century of Russian Stories”, I recommend it.

The music was playing, the two of us sitting on the bed, and I couldn't help but kiss him. I liked everything about him, the smell of his skin, the taste of his mouth, his kisses, how he ran his hand along my neck, how he took off my shirt.

I had that feeling that time stopped to extend that moment as much as possible, kiss his neck and back, feel myself inside him and press him tightly against me.

In the warmth of the bed I hugged him, resting his head on my chest, I told him to give me 5 minutes to return home. It was already quite late, but he told me I could sleep with him. I agreed and in the warmth of the bed we fell asleep.

The next day we spent the day together, I also checked the boiler and managed to repair it, we were able to shower together, it had been a long time since I shared that moment with someone.

We walked around Barcelona and went to eat, now I feel stupid, but even watching him eat fascinated me, every word, every look I felt like he was dedicating it to me personally.

I told him that in the afternoon I had my train back to Murcia, he asked me if I had anything to do in the following days, I answered no, and he asked me if I could stay with him for a couple of days. I called the station and they told me there was no problem changing the tickets, I felt like it was fate. I spent some wonderful days with him.

Time passed and we talked a lot, I returned to the city of Barcelona several times, every time I met him again, it was like reliving that magical moment I had experienced the first day he opened the door to me. Walking with him through Barcelona feeling the sun filled me with that feeling of peace and tranquility. We even took some car trips together around the area.

One day I told him that as on other occasions I would go to Barcelona, ​​I felt him elusive. I wrote to him on several occasions and it took him longer and longer to respond, sometimes he didn't even respond at all. When I was in Barcelona I asked him to meet for at least 5 minutes, to have a coffee, simply to see him, say hello, although I understood that he was busy.

He didn't answer me again, it felt like a stab. It was a painful moment, not even having an answer was another of the things that ate me the most inside. Was it my fault? I never got an answer. Over time that blow began to soften and stop hurting, but the mark stayed. The mark of betrayal that makes you act with lead feet, full of insecurities and fears of... What if... will they do it to me again?

If you have experienced it, you will know what I feel, and if you have done ghosting, remember that it is better to clarify things, and let everyone make their journey than to disappear.