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The Reappearing Ghost of Potential Boo Past [Diary of the Undateable]


Halloween’s over, but I have a scary story to share with you all. Gather ‘round, single girls, as I tell the tale of Peter, the Reappearing Ghost of Potential Boos Past.

Just the other night, I was sitting in bed doing a little bit of homework and watching “Family Guy” on OnDemand…a typical night at the bachelorette pad. I usually put my phone on Do Not Disturb after 10 p.m. so that I can sleep without being distracted, but I have a terrible habit of checking it one more time before closing my eyes. So when I checked, I was surprised to see a text from an unknown number in my notification center – “hello.”

Okay, I’m fronting. I knew exactly who it was…Peter. My summer fling. The one who I thought was “the one.” He really pulled a number on me…told me all the right things at the right time and then *poof.* Gone. It was weird…he’d text me, I’d text back asap and I wouldn’t hear from him for days at a time. It was obvi that he wasn’t really into me, but I still went through the Single Girl Excuse Cycle – maybe his phone is broken? Maybe he didn’t pay the bill? Maybe he was in a car accident? Maybe he’s super-sick and his fingers are too swollen to hit me back? It took a solid month, a season of “Sex and the City” DVDs and some stern advice from my girlfriends to finally, finally, FINALLY let wack ass Peter with his wack ass promises go.

So when his text popped up, I was shocked. I deleted our iMessages, his selfies and the screenshots that I shared with my friends from my phone…meaning that he was essentially dead to me. But no. Peter rose from the undateable ether and floated back into my inbox – and possibly back into my heart. Wtf.

It happens every time and all of the time. We work SO hard to move on from an unsuitable guy – we cut off communication, stop answering texts and calls, listen to sad songs and eat copious amounts of ice cream and cry it all out until it’s over. But all that work is unraveled with a lone check-up text. It’s like guys have this built-in sensor that goes off when we’re ready to move on. She’s forgetting about me…time to swoop in so that she can remember! It’s such bs.

I had a huge choice to make…and I wasn’t going to consult my council of homegirls or season two of SATC. I could chalk Peter’s text up to fate. I had just scrolled past one of those super-corny-but-still-screenshotable Instagram love memes with an equally corny quote – “there’s someone out there for everyone.” Maybe the meme was right. Maybe Peter was my someone. Maybe he realized that we really could be good together. Maybe I could give him another chance and we could live happily ever after.

My other option was to ignore the text – to delete it and pretend that it never happened. Why SHOULD I give this douche another chance? He didn’t return my texts, didn’t make any effort and didn’t even bother calling after all this time. Sure, I missed him…but deep down, I knew what would happen if I answered him. We’d talk for a few days, he’d compliment me and say cute things and then *poof.* He’d be gone again. I decided to delete the text and just like that, I released my ghost. No more haunting THIS house, bb.

When she’s not watching for Blue Ivy sightings or doing some serious Facebook creeping, Khalea moonlights as a print journalism major at the REAL HU, Howard University. Follow her on Twitter at @letsbeKHAlear, or feel free to Twatch. Whatever works for you.

When she’s not watching for Blue Ivy sightings or doing some serious Facebook creeping, Khalea, a recent Howard University graduate, moonlights as a magazine intern and a freelancer in New York City. Follow her on Twitter at @letsbeKHAlear, or feel free to Twatch. Whatever works for you.