Orbiting, ghosting and why I am done flirting on Instagram

I have been meaning to write a piece about Instagram dynamics for a while now. Originally, I wanted to call it “The Cold War On Instagram” and introduce my theory of how, if there ever was a second Cold War, it will take place on Instagram. Simply because it is so easy to hide behind your well-chosen avatars and indulge your passive aggression. It is just as easy for other people to deduce your intentions and draw unsolicited conclusions. She unfollowed me, I guess we are not friends any more. He didn’t like my photo, maybe he’s not interested.

But I’ve decided I am less interested in how often Harry Truman would’ve posted Soviet memes and more curious about how Marilyn Monroe would have expressed her sentiments towards JFK. I want to examine the way in which Instagram has changed our romantic relationships and courtship behaviours and to address the seasonable question — do our subtle digital hints count as flirting or do they not?

 

I think it is fair to say that Instagram has turned into the one dating app that we all use. A journal of the relationships lost and gained, a playground for imaginations and potential partners.

Fairy recently, I bumped into a guy in my gym that I kinda liked. He was really not “my type” but there was something about him (perhaps BDE, who knows). So naturally, I added him on Instagram (as one does). It wasn’t a few days before I dropped the first line, I think it was a reply to a story (just to be safe). He engaged and we had a brief chat. But a few days later he posted a photo with his girlfriend and it became clear to me than he is actually— taken. But every now and again he will like my posts and so will I. Apparently, this sort of behaviour has a new name, it’s called “orbiting”. It is when there isn’t really something going on emotionally, or physically but there is a sort of an interest, remotely expressed by notification flattery. Like two planets that orbit each other. As Josh Glancy would describe it- “a virtual catching of eyes to sustain a tenuous bond”.

I was previously familiar with the term “ghosting”  which means to completely cut someone out of your life, without even offering an explanation. Just casually, one day, you leave the letters s,e,e,n hunt him/her back from the screen. I was also acquainted with the term – “breadcrumbing” which means to engage in unfruitful, pointless and often the result of boredom exchange of a DMs, only once a month or so when the spirits are exceptionally low. It is done with the intention of keeping the other party interested because you rejoice in the attention, not because you ever intend of changing your relationship status. #lame

 

But why am I bothering explaining this to you? Am I the new Urban Dictionary?

Well, apart from going through the process of educating my own self while writing this, I suddenly had the realisation of just how many people  we “orbit”.  The ex- boyfriend who will view my story until the end of my days if for no better reason than at least to make me pointlessly scroll through my story viewers when I should have been in bed three hours ago, the guy I met once at a party and sort of liked but only about 80% which is obviously not enough to go on a date but still enough to message occasionally, the one that I just granted a follow because of his looks, even though he is 20 years older and the tens and thousands of others that frankly— I have forgotten how I came to follow. And I know spring is over, but I think it is time for a little spring clean.

 

Why? Because we might not realise it, but the energy that goes into sustaining those non-relationships exhausts us. It is a waste of time. And I am tired.

I am tired of orbiting planets that have long stopped glowing, I am tired of guessing and flirting in a vogue sort of way. I am tired of all the subtleness and the digital hints and the superficial flattery. I am tired of trying to fill a helium balloon with natural air and hoping it will go up. It won’t. If there are likes and pokes and winks  — I want them in real life. I want to feel them viscerally, I want to make them palpable, I want to touch them and hold them and breathe through them. If I like you, I want the courage to come up to you and tell you and look at you with a look that will pierce straight through your eyes and right to your myocardium.

And it’s takes courage. It takes being less online and more everywhere else. Even in those times when it feels lonely, even when it seems like he or she isn’t interested, but it’s damn worth it.

Why? Because that is our only way to reality.

With Love,

N.