Delusion-ships: Falling for Someone Who Doesn't Know You Exist
Delusion-ships: Falling for Someone Who Doesn't Know You Exist
My romantic dream last night was of my Instagram crush. He doesn't know me. But it made me swoon hard.
Well, that is not entirely true. We have spoken. I replied to his Instagram story of a very aesthetic sourdough loaf with a fire emoji, and he liked it. In my head, that fire emoji was basically a digital engagement ring. By the time I finished my morning coffee, we were already living in a brownstone in Brooklyn with a golden retriever named Matcha.
Welcome to my life. Or rather, welcome to my delusion-ship.
We have all been there. You find a guy on the explore page, or maybe he is a friend-of-a-friend you have seen twice in real life. You spend so much time analyzing his photo dumps and reading into his Spotify Wrapped that you start to feel like you know his soul. You do not miss him when he does not text back because technically he does not have your number, but you miss the version of him you curated in your head.
In my case, it's a marketing professor at a college I've never been to, who happens to look better than he needs to. But he frequently posts his classroom videos and his students joke in the comments. He's super funny and seems kind, and I'd rather not check if he's married. The whole vibe seems so fun I want to be a part of it. And now it feels like I am.
Why the Fantasy is Better Than the Reality
The thing about delusion-ships is that they are incredibly safe. The version of him I created in my brain is perfect. He is always romantic on dates. He has never sent a one-word text. He definitely does not have any weirdly aggressive opinions.
He is essentially a Build-A-Bear for my emotional needs.
When we are in a real relationship, there is friction. There are dirty socks on the floor and disagreements about where to order Thai food. But in a delusion-ship? Everything is cinematic. I can project all my hopes, dreams, and favorite indie movie tropes onto a guy who is currently just sitting in his room eating cold pizza and grading papers.
We are not falling for people anymore. We are falling for digital personas. We are falling for the way they look in grainy 35mm film photos and the fact that they follow that one niche branding secrets account.
The Parasocial Heartbreak
It sounds funny until you realize you are actually grieving. I have felt more heart-wrenched over a guy unfollowing me than I have over actual, real-life breakups. Why? Because when the delusion dies, the dream dies too.
I am starting to realize that my addiction to these mental movies is just a way to avoid the messy, terrifying reality of actually being seen by someone. If I stay in my head, I cannot get rejected. If he is just a character I am writing fanfiction about, I am always the lead actress and the director.
But here is the problem: You cannot build a life with a ghost. You cannot hold hands with a grid.
How to Wake Up From the Dream
I had to give myself a massive reality check last night. I looked at his latest post, a blurry photo of a street sign, and tried to find the deep, poetic meaning in it. Then I stopped. I realized I was doing all the work. I was supplying the personality, the depth, and the chemistry. He was just a placeholder.
If you are currently deep in a delusion-ship, here is your wake-up call:
Stop looking at the archived stories. Stop checking his following list to see if he is interested in someone else. Most importantly, stop giving him credit for the personality you invented for him.
The man you are in love with does not exist. He is a collection of pixels and your own wishful thinking.
It is time to close the tab, put down the phone, and go find someone who is actually capable of disappointing you. Because a real, annoying, imperfect person who actually shows up is a million times better than a perfect man who only lives in your imagination.
I am deleting the draft of our wedding announcement now. Matcha the golden retriever deserves a real dad anyway.
