Dating in the Digital Age: A Ghost(ed) Story New York can be a scary place: angry bouncers & snooty baristas, glamazon models & trust fund club kids, subway rats & subway gropers. But, by far, the scariest figure in all of Manhattan is: The Ghost. The guy who acts interested and then just disappears. Instead of "Boo!", this ghost says...nothing at all. No balls (but still a dick). Leaving the ghosted woman to wonder, Why didn't he text back? What did I do wrong? What's wrong with me? The 7 Stages of Ghosted Grief go something like this: 1) Shock & Denial (He'll text back. Maybe he's just at the gym?) 2) Pain & Guilt (Why did I tell that stupid story!) 3) Anger & Bargaining (I can do better than him anyway!) 4) Depression & Reflection (I'm broken and I'm going to die alone. I wonder: In an age of bots, swipes, and texts, is honest communication as old-fashioned as a newsboy cap? Is open dialogue as out of place as an oversized tie on a little black dress?) But then come stages 5, 6 & 7, which, for me, are Samantha, Miranda & Charlotte. You need your most fabulous friends to perform an exorcism. After all, you can ghost the ghost. Erase him from your memory and free up space for all the good stuff. Replace his ghost with The Phantom of the Oprah and have yourself an A-Ha Moment: Ghosts aren't really scary. They're scared. And you should never let a dead text stop you from living your best life. #CarrieDragshaw