It first happened in 4th grade when I fell in love with Jack.
One day, he was passing me a note asking me to go out with him; the next day, he didn’t even choose me for his team in soccer at recess. Hours later, he finally had a friend call to let me know I was dumped.
The pain of being ghosted is deeply rooted in my body. The child of two parents with ASPD, I felt that even my parents ghosted me.
Adolescence saw me entangled with bad boy after bad boy — a revolving carousel of different flavors of sin.