Well—guess you’ll never hear from that person again.
They’re, like, totally swamped at work.
Your kissing style doesn’t match theirs (oh come on, you know it’s true), which, while not immediately a deal-breaker, is quite an obstacle in the long run, if you really think about it.
They heard you the other night on your third date when you drunkenly mumbled “I think I love you” under your breath.
They gave you an earnest shot but simply couldn’t shake the knowledge that you are not Sheriff Jim Hopper and you never will be. And why would anyone settle for anything less than Hopper? Even if he is a fictional character.
They’re just, like, totally not ready to date right now, even though they thought they were when they decided to fire up the dating apps again — specifically the one you met on.
You habitually wear socks during sex and you’re not very good at boning to begin with. Your performance is subpar at best. Too much tongue in the kissing, not enough tongue in the oral, etc.
You’re in your 30s and still sleep with stuffed animals, which I think we can all admit isn’t the weirdest thing of all time, but also that it’s not not weird.
You were a pawn to help them get their ex back.
They met someone better than you (who may actually be the love of their life) while browsing the dating app they met you on, and would prefer slowly fading their way out of your life to actually revealing this to you, because in the past people have overreacted in strange and sometimes unsettling ways to finding out that they weren’t viewed, in the eyes of someone they’ve been attempting to court, as the most viable of potential partners.
They found out about the hookers.
They checked out your Instagram and noticed the correlation of how your body weight fluctuates based on whether or not you are actively looking for a relationship or comfortably in a committed one, and they have decided to get out before you get into massive gains mode.
They’ve justified in their mind (and potentially justifiably so, depending on several variables and their own personal ethical code) that they don’t really owe you anything at all — including an explanation for why they no longer want you to be a part of their life.
They decided that multitasking is stupid and decided they wouldn’t breathe and text you at the same time anymore, and they’re a slow typist with subpar lung capacity.
They know what you did last summer.
They read that thing you wrote the one time about how after every first date you go on you text your Mom to say you’ve met the person you’re going to marry, so that when you do meet the person you’re going to marry you can tell people the lovely and romantic story about how you texted your Mom this message right after your first date, and they didn’t realize that the essay in question was satire.
You came on way too strongly way too quickly and freaked them the fuck out. (Maybe next time don’t text something like “I miss you already” moments after the conclusion of your third fucking date.)
They read the morning briefing of current events in the country and, in reaction, whipped their phone across the room, where it shattered against the beautiful exposed brick they have in their apartment. They have not been diligent with their cloud data backups and so have found themselves unable to recover your contact information, and they also happen to be dismal at using Google.
They were a figment of your imagination. In fact, none of this is real.
They have become a zombie.
They have become a werewolf.
They have experienced the calling of the cloth and have felt undeniably compelled to become either a nun or a priest.
You fucked up the whole “your” and “you’re” thing one too goddamn many times.
They have been married this whole time and their spouse found out, so they had to cut ties (immediately and without notice) with you and anyone else they have been seeing. (How did their spouse find out? Well, it could’ve happened in any number of ways, including said spouse coming across their partner’s online dating profile — which, when brought up, started an argument where they were both questioning why the other was on a dating app, the result being the revelation that they both have been cheating and should maybe explore ethical non-monogamy, which is all the rage these days.)
After all these years, you’re still trying to make fetch happen.
You always have coffee breath.
You front-loaded everything interesting about yourself and have quickly become insufferingly boring.
Because shit happens.
Sometimes it’s easier to vanish into thin air than to explain oneself.