As I sat in the musky smelling motel, I picked up my phone.
I pressed call and waited for an answer.
The moment I knew my relationship was over. Post continues after video.
A few minutes later, I tried calling again.
I didn’t know it at the time, but a f*ckboy who had told me he loved me was currently ghosting me.
For the purposes of this story, we’re going to call him Spencer (not his real name).
Spencer and I had attended a wedding in America together just two days earlier.
My best friend from back home in Australia had just married one of his friends, who he’d been in the Marine Corps with.
We’d all met four years earlier when I travelled to America for a dancing performance.
I had a boyfriend at the time, but Spencer and I exchanged numbers and kept in touch as friends when I returned home.
When my boyfriend and I broke up, Spencer was there for me.
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