By Anonymous
I met him online.
I ignored his first message. He was in California, too far from New York, and back then, I had no problem meeting men in person.
Online dating sounded fun I suppose, but only if I was really bored and it was a slow Monday night.
At first, we finally did start chatting, I wasn’t that interested. He told me he couldn’t afford to fly out to meet me, because he had just started a business, and blah blah, I didn’t want to hear it.
His being long-distance was one turn off, but his not being able to meet immediately dimmed the spark.
I kept dating other people, trying to stay grounded in reality.
But he had a way of reappearing. Usually, on a Sunday afternoon or after yet another man in NYC had not called back after a date, or simply ghosted, so when I was feeling a bit lonely or vulnerable, I would talk to him.
And every time he called, the connection felt electric, intellectual, and intense.
After a while, I felt almost addicted to his calls and eagerly looked forward to them.
He was brilliant. Intriguing. The kind of man who made me feel special.
Eventually, it escalated. He told me he loved me, and I stopped seeing other men.
Still, there was always something in the way, and he had a bunch of excuses why he could not meet me. Work. Money. Timing.
Excuses that kept him just out of reach.
And the longer it went on, the more frustrated I became. I wanted proof he was real. I was sick of this long-distance shit.
The longing, the ache, was unbearable.
I begged, I pleaded, I threatened to stop talking to him. Nothing worked.
But one day, I’d reached my breaking point, and he knew it.
Finally, after enough pressure, he agreed to come to New York.
I was excited. Thrilled that we would finally be together!
Then, at the last minute-he canceled.
Some vague story about losing his job.
This is the most difficult part of my story because I have to admit, his cancelling one time was not the problem, if it had only been that once.
He did it over and over and over.
Always with a different excuse.
I would get so mad, even avoid him for a few days.
But I would always forgive him.
Eventually, I stopped arguing about it. I just lost the energy to fight with him anymore, and I guess he heard it in my voice.
I was bored.
I began living my life again. Not as available. Being distant.
Not playing hard to get. I just started to hang out with my friends again and enjoying my hobbies.
He knew. He could tell he had to do something drastic to get my interest back.
Not long after, he flipped the script. He said he wanted me to come to California. Start a life together. Leave everything behind.
I told him he was out of his mind. I had a rent-controlled apartment with a garden in a good neighborhood in NYC-something people in other states might liken to winning the lottery.
I had a job I liked, a life, stability. You don’t just walk away from that on a promise.
But he kept pushing.
So I said yes.
Not because I trusted him- but because I didn’t.
I called his bluff.
I told him I gave notice at work. I told him I had informed my landlord that I was leaving, and he listed the apartment. I told him I sold most of my possessions, packed up my life, and put everything left in storage.
I even told him my friends and colleagues gave me a goodbye party. For a few weeks, that’s all he and I talked about.
He was beyond thrilled and told me details about how beautiful our new life was going to be. He described his favorite cafe he would take me to, the beaches we would have romantic picnics on, and the life that we would have together.
It sounded like a fairytale dream.
One that, sadly, I knew was never going to happen.
Call me a cynical, jaded New Yorker, but I simply could not believe him. I no longer trusted him.
I begged him-if you’re not serious, tell me now. Do not let me destroy my life for this.
He swore he was real. Vowed he was going to take care of me forever, and promised that he meant every word he said.
And I’m ashamed to admit it, but at times, I weakened. I almost confessed and told him the truth. I was not moving there. I was not coming even for a week to just meet him.
He had insisted, demanded, that I not come for a brief visit, but stressed, “If you love me, you will trust me. And you will move here to be by my side where you belong, forever, so I can take care of you.”
I never told him I loved him; all the gaslighting and love-bombing was on his side.
But deep down, I was mad. I was mad as hell. Because I knew he had lied, and was lying again. I knew with all my being that he was not going to be there.
And when I faltered, when I got weak or had moments of doubt whether I was wrong, I felt like shit because I was not the type of person to lie or be deceitful.
Besides, what if I was being to cynical? What if all of his excuses were real?
That he had lost his job,
his business was struggling,
that his home had a small fire,
that his car had broken down,
blah blah blah,
All reasons he had to cancel coming to meet me, each and every time.
Disappointing me over and over again with his last-minute excuses.
The last time, he even let me go to the airport and wait 2 hours before letting me know he was not coming.
But when he would talk to him and “explain,” sometimes I would get a little weak.
I mean, what if he really DID love me and was serious?
When we spoke, which of course was for hours every day in the past, (while this time, I kept our conversations brief because i was still so raw and so hurt and was trying to keep some level of sanity), when we spoke he sounded so damn sincere, and so real.
I absolutely loved his voice. It was deep, and calming, soothing, and so incredibly articulate. His vocabulary was extensive.
It was funny, he had a bit of a southern twang at times, even though he had sent me photos of himself (of course we never video chatted, back then it wasnt really common), and he had told me he was a light-skinned black American man.
But I ignored his slight accent because I hated when people would say someone, “sounds black,” or “sounds white”. I find that incredibly prejudiced/ racist.
But I pushed that aside with all the other “small” things that just didn’t quite add up and chalked it up to me being too distrustful based on my past relationships, or just men I’d dated who had lied or cheated.
I didn’t want to hurt him by not showing up.
I weakened a few times, but just before confessing, I reminded myself that he had pushed me into this position, and I needed to know one way or the other: was he bullshitting me?
I had to do this to protect myself. I needed to know, was he, and were his intentions, real?
The day I was supposed to leave, I woke up extra early, and I called him. No answer.
He never not answered.
I texted. Nothing.
I pretended I did not know what was happening. I kept it simple, “Hey babe, just wanted to say hi and hear your voice, and tell you I cannot wait to see you. Hopefully, we can talk when I’m at the airport after I check in.”
Of course, no reply.
He had disappeared.
No texts. No calls. Nothing.
I sent messages anyway:
“I’m heading to the airport.”
“I’m boarding.”
“I’ve arrived. Where are you?”
Silence.
I wasn’t at the airport. I was sitting in my apartment, phone in hand, watching it all unfold exactly the way I knew it would.
That was the moment I knew what I had feared all along:
I had been catfished.
I was hurt. Pissed off. Mad as hell.
But I moved on.
Every single day, reminding myself of how grateful I was that I had not believed him, and that I had moved on.
Six months later, my phone rang.
It was him.
He said he’d been in an accident. That he’d been in a coma.
Boy, please.
I had already checked hospitals. Police reports. Everything. There was no record of him anywhere.
The story unraveled quickly. He stumbled. Contradicted himself.
I stopped him.
I said, “I don’t care if any of that is true. The only way I’ll even consider forgiving you is if you get on a plane and come to New York. Face me. Apologize in person.”
He argued. He said he was offended. Told me how insulted he was, and almost cried that he had “suffered through such a horrific ordeal, and how could I accuse him of lying?”
Whatever. Those were my terms. Period.
So, he finally agreed and promised to do whatever it took. Because of his “love for me”.
He talked such a good game. He was smooth all right.
A week later, a message came from a “friend” of his I had never heard of.
He had “unexpectedly died.”
Another lie.
He was not dead.
I’m telling this story because I’ve heard so many other stories, similar versions of it to many times, especially from women.
The sudden coma.
The unexpected death.
The tragedy that conveniently removes someone from accountability.
And yes, sometimes these things are real. Sometimes people do fall into comas. Sometimes they do die, suddenly and painfully.
And for the partner left behind at a distance, it can be devastating, helpless, confusing.
The person left behind can feel such an intense feeling of loss and grief.
But there are also times when it isn’t real.
When the story is fabricated, when the person you trusted never intended to show up at all.
Comas and deaths are things you can Indeed find records of.
Especially when a person died. Obituaries are public information. Proof.
But when you’re in shock, when you’re emotionally invested, it’s easier to silence the voice that tells you to look deeper.
Because a part of you almost hopes it’s true.
Because the alternative,
that you were deceived, manipulated, and strung along by someone who may never have been real, or even loved you at all
can feel even more unbearable.
This is only one story, my story. A personal account based on my experience.
It reflects one situation and one perspective. Not all long-distance relationships are deceptive, and not all tragedies are fabricated.
I am very happy with my current partner today who I also met online, and now we have been together years in person.
But emotional investment should never replace verification, and love should never require you to abandon your reality without evidence that the other person is fully present in it.
Everyone deserves to be able to share a life with their partner in real life, not just online.
So if you partner has reasons where they are unable to meet you, until they are able to, please please try to hold back your emotions until you are able to meet in real life.
Please dont make the same mistakes I did.
If you want to hear more about catfishers and scammers and the lies they tell, click here.
Learn about how to spot a catfish here.
