Casual, Until It Wasn't

Or: How do you get dumped by someone you weren't even dating?

Dear Diary,

    Well, ladies and gentlemen, it appears that I have once again found myself in a romantic predicament. Shocking, I know. At this point, I should probably start charging admission to witness the circus that is my dating life.

    Today's episode features a familiar character: Arthur.

    For some context, Arthur and I met on Hinge. From the very beginning, we were both pretty clear about what we wanted, or rather, what we didn't want. Neither of us was looking for a relationship. No boyfriend-girlfriend expectations, no commitments, no promises of a future together. Just two people getting to know each other and enjoying one another's company.

    Simple enough, right?

    Except, as I've recently discovered, human emotions have a funny way of complicating even the simplest arrangements.

The Boy Who Called Every Night

    If you've read my previous entries, you might remember me questioning whether I actually liked Arthur or simply liked the attention he gave me.

    After all, I was coming out of a situation with LG, where consistent communication felt like a luxury rather than a given. Suddenly, here was a guy who texted me back quickly, responded to my TikToks, FaceTimed me every night, and actually seemed excited to talk to me.

    And I ate. It. Up.

    Initially, I attributed my growing fondness for him to the attention. I mean, wouldn't anyone enjoy having someone who genuinely wanted to talk to them?

    But somewhere along the way, something shifted.

    I started looking forward to our nightly calls. I'd get little bursts of dopamine whenever his name appeared on my screen. I found myself wanting to tell him about the most mundane parts of my day. And when he told me he was too tired to call one night, I actually felt disappointed.

    Me? Disappointed over a boy?

    Someone alert the authorities.

    In retrospect, I think I liked him more than I was willing to admit. Not necessarily in an I want to marry this man and have his children kind of way, but in an I really enjoy having you in my life, and I'd like to keep it that way kind of way.

    Which brings us to the problem.

Apparently, We Broke Up?

    Without getting into every single detail, a comment I made somehow turned into a much bigger issue than I ever anticipated.

    And suddenly, Arthur decided to end things.

    Just like that.

    No real opportunity to talk it through. No chance to clarify what I meant or where I was coming from. One conversation, and something that had become part of my everyday routine was abruptly over.

    Now, here's the part that frustrates me the most.

I never asked him to be my boyfriend.

    I wasn't demanding a relationship. I wasn't asking him to commit to me. In fact, I was the one who established the casual nature of our situation in the first place!

    So imagine my confusion when everything ended over what felt like a misunderstanding of my intentions.

    It's almost comical. How does one get dumped from a relationship she wasn't even in?

    I understand that people have the right to walk away from situations that no longer serve them. Arthur was under no obligation to keep talking to me. But I also think there's a difference between not owing someone a relationship and not owing them basic communication.

    Especially when you've spent so much time making them feel like their presence matters to you.

Casual Doesn't Mean Emotionless

    I've been thinking a lot about what it actually means to keep things casual.

    For some reason, there's this unspoken rule that if you agree to something casual, you're not allowed to have feelings about how it ends.

    You can't be sad. You can't be disappointed. You can't expect anything.

    Because, well, you knew what you signed up for.

    And I'll admit, I've been holding myself to that exact standard.

    Part of me feels ridiculous for being upset. After all, I was the one who said I didn't want a relationship. Who am I to complain when someone decides to leave?

    But then I started thinking: Since when did casual become synonymous with disposable?

    Not wanting a relationship doesn't mean I don't value someone's company. It doesn't mean I can't become attached to our conversations, our inside jokes, or the little routines we develop together.

    And it certainly doesn't mean I'm incapable of being hurt.

    Arthur told me he missed me. He told me he wanted to see me. We talked about future plans, including my birthday, which, if you know me, you know is practically a national holiday.

    So yes, maybe we were casual.

    But was everything about us casual?

    I don't know.

    And I think that's what makes this whole situation so confusing.

I'm Not Mourning a Future. I'm Mourning an Abrupt Ending.

    Here's something I've realized about myself over the past 12 hours.

    I'm not particularly devastated about the imaginary future Arthur and I could've had.

    I wasn't picturing our wedding. I wasn't mentally naming our children. I wasn't even imagining him becoming my boyfriend.

    In fact, the furthest I'd really thought ahead was his birthday in January. I assumed we'd still be talking by then.

    That's it. That was my grand romantic fantasy.

    Three more months of FaceTime calls and occasional flirting. Somebody call Nicholas Sparks.

    What actually bothers me is how unexpectedly everything ended.

    One minute, I had someone I spoke to every day. Someone who had become a familiar, comforting part of my routine.

    And the next minute, I didn't.

    I think the word that best describes how I feel is blindsided.

    Not heartbroken, necessarily. Not devastated. Just incredibly taken off guard.

    And annoyed. Very, very annoyed.

    Because I genuinely believe this could've been a conversation instead of a goodbye.

The Psychology of Getting Attached

    Naturally, because I am me, I couldn't just experience an emotion without psychoanalyzing it.

    I've been thinking about how attachment doesn't necessarily require commitment. Sometimes, all it takes is consistency.

    When someone texts you every morning, calls you every night, and gradually becomes part of your daily routine, your brain starts expecting their presence.

    You become accustomed to them.

    And when that consistency suddenly disappears, you feel the absence, regardless of what label you gave the connection.

    I also wonder whether my experience with LG made me particularly receptive to Arthur's attention.

    After spending months feeling uncertain about where I stood with someone, Arthur's consistency was refreshing. I didn't have to wonder whether he'd respond or whether he wanted to talk to me.

    He just did.

    But I don't want to reduce my feelings for Arthur to some psychological reaction to another man.

    Because while the attention might've initially drawn me in, I genuinely enjoyed him.

    His personality. Our conversations. The familiarity.

    And maybe that's something I wasn't ready to admit until he was gone.

So, What Now?

    Well, my birthday is in less than a week.

    And I'm not going to lie, a tiny, petty part of me is going to be irritated if Arthur doesn't wish me a happy birthday.

    Not because I need his validation to enjoy my day, but because we spent so much time talking about it. He knows how excited I am. He knows how much it means to me.

    Will I survive if he doesn't text me?

    Obviously.

    Will I roll my eyes dramatically?

    Without a doubt.

    But regardless of what happens, I think this entire experience has taught me something about myself.

    I can want something casual and still care deeply about the person involved.

    I can be uninterested in a relationship and still feel disappointed when a connection ends.

    And most importantly, I don't have to pretend something meant nothing to me just because it was never officially something.

    Maybe Arthur and I wanted different things. Maybe there was a misunderstanding. Maybe this would've ended eventually, regardless of what happened.

    I'll probably never know.

    What I do know is that I liked talking to him. I liked having him around. And I wish we'd had the opportunity to talk things through before deciding that walking away was the only option.

    I don't regret keeping things casual.

    I just wish the ending hadn't felt so careless.

    Anyway, dear diary, another day, another man, another psychological case study.

    At least I'm never running out of blog material.

xoxo, Keke ♡