Fucking History

GETTIN’ GHOSTED

Few things in life will make you feel as dumb as “getting ghosted.” But you know what? Getting ghosted is a fucking blessing. Anybody who won’t give you the courtesy of giving it to you straight is somebody you don’t need in your life anyway. So, if you do get ghosted, keep doing your thing and make sure the person who ghosted you lives to absolutely fucking regret it. Be like Edith Wharton.

By the year 1905, Edith had already made quite a name for herself as an author and wordsmith. Sadly, her literary success did not carry into her marriage. And, like unhappily married people have been known to do, she had an affair. It began in 1906 with a kindred spirit she’d found in another writer by the name of William Morton Fullerton. Edith was head over heels for this guy and thought for sure he was the soulmate most people only ever dream of meeting. Unfortunately, the affair was short-lived when Fullerton disappeared on her sometime in 1908. Yep, he straight ghosted her ass.

Over the years, she did what she could to find him and make contact by writing hundreds of letters — yes, hundreds — in an attempt to get some closure, but Fuckboy Fullerton never bothered to even give her a response. Realizing love was dumb, and Fullerton was even dumber, she eventually gave up and got on with her life. In 1913, Edith divorced her husband and moved to France. There, she continued to write, and in 1916, she received a French Legion of Honor award for her work during the war.

In 1921, she became THE FIRST WOMAN EVER to win the Pulitzer Prize with her novel, “The Age of Innocence.” Like a boss, she never remarried and spent the rest of her life living and writing in the French Riviera with her dogs, her garden, and her close friends. She even went on to receive three Nobel Prize nominations before her death in 1937.

And, what did Fullerton do with his life? Not much. His claim to fame was dating Edith, and the letters she wrote to him were eventually published in a book. Yeah, although he didn’t respond, he received and saved every one — all 400 of ’em. (Huh, suddenly sending five texts in a row doesn’t seem so bad.)

You see, getting ghosted is not the end of the world. If someone ghosts you, haunt their ass with your success. Or, just get, like, super fucking attractive. Either way, you win — they lose.