They don’t yell at you.
They don’t argue.
They just disappear.
Not all at once—no, that would at least be honest.
Instead, it’s a slow dissolve.
You send a message. You leave a kind comment. You say, “Hey, I’d love for you to check out something I made.”
And they delete it. Quietly. Without a word.
No call. No response. No “Hey, maybe ease off with the links” or “This wasn’t the place.”
Not even a polite “Thanks, but not for me.”
Just silence.
And if you’re lucky?
A click.
The kind that removes you entirely.
I’ve been around a while.
Long enough to remember when people used to pick up the phone and say what they meant.
If you crossed a line, someone told you—gently, firmly, like a friend ought to.
They didn’t leave you guessing. They didn’t vanish into a swirl of algorithmic etiquette.
They showed up.
Because that’s what friends and family did.
Now, I’m being taught a new rulebook.
One I never asked for.
One that doesn’t believe in correction—just deletion.
If you mess up, you’re not told. You’re just erased.
I had an old friend, fifty years in.
Posted some photos online.
I left a simple comment. Thought maybe he’d want to see what I’d been building—my website, my words, my little corner of the world.
But no.
The comment was gone the next time I looked.
Not moved. Not replied to. Just… removed.
And me along with it.
So I sent him one last message:
I get it. This is the world now. No explanation. No goodbye. Just… gone. I won’t bother you again. Wishing you a good life. I’m too old to learn the new ways the hard way.
Goodbye, old friend.
And maybe I said too much.
Maybe I’m not cut out for the silent treatment masquerading as respect.
But here’s the thing: silence isn’t gentle. Not when it comes from those you once laughed with.
Not when it’s handed out like punishment without a crime.
There’s no closure in being ignored.
No dignity in being quietly unfriended.
No kindness in vanishing without cause.
So I’ll bow out.
Not bitter. Not loud. Just done.
Done chasing people who won’t return a hello.
Done mistaking silence for grace.
From now on, I’ll speak here—on my porch, in my posts, in my own name.
No more filtered feeds or ghost replies.
Just an old man talking plainly, to whoever’s still listening.
And if you’ve felt this too?
You’re not alone…the world today is much crueler with the knife of silence.
Filed Under: Social Fadeouts, Ghost Protocol, and the Last Goodbyes
