Best. Rejection. Ever.

Recently, I got rejected in the most courteous way possible, and it brought me to tears.

Not because I wasn’t disappointed; I was.

Not because I hadn’t been interested; I had been.

Not because I didn’t feel that hot little sting of embarrassment; I did.

I cried because the man who did it was so upfront and polite about it — and I had never, ever experienced that before.

It was the best rejection I’ve ever had, and that made me really fucking sad.

Have you ever been dating someone and then they just disappeared? Into thin air? Post continues below. 

Don’t get me wrong. There’s no denying that whichever angle it comes from, getting let down kind of sucks. But through my encounter with this strange unicorn-man of the dating world who came bearing — gasp — Basic Respect For Me and Manners (which I’ll probably never come across again, and will be left to retire alone with many cats and houseplants), I found out you can take rejection that’s packaged respectfully right on the chin — not to the heart, which is usually what happens when your date abruptly stops texting you and you’re left to go through the agonising process of trying to figure out what you did wrong.

Or if he actually died or was in hospital or had his phone stolen and doesn’t know how to find you on Facebook to let you know, despite having numerous mutual friends (note: death, hospitalisation or robbery are rarely the reasons he didn’t text back).

In a world where the wall of technology makes it easy to hide and forget other people’s humanity, and where ghosting has become the normal way of dealing with the uncomfortable job of letting someone know you do not wish to date them again (“no message IS the message” -- insert eye roll emoji); being told clearly, openly and kindly that I'm not getting that next date was a shocking, tear-inducing anomaly.

It was just so goddamn NICE to be treated courteously and actually know for once. To be respected enough to be told with no ambiguity. None of this dropping-off-the-face-of-the-planet-and-turning-me-into-an-amateur*-private-investigator-to-work-it-out B.S, nor that slow-and-ambiguous-fade-out thing that happens sometimes.

The tears came because I felt sad that I was filled with gratitude due to someone using basic manners and treating me like, um, a Real Human with Actual Human Feelings (okay, and there were a few tears that rolled because someone who was seemingly the Holy Grail of the dating world -- A Decent Guy I Actually Liked And Could See Myself Being Naked With Also Perhaps -- had met someone else).

Letting someone down can be difficult -- I’m guilty of pulling a few ghost moves on the dating d-floor myself in the past, which I’m certainly not proud of -- and none of us gain pleasure from hurting another person’s feelings (unless you’re a psychopath, in which case please stay away from me because I’m preeeeetty sure I’m a magnet for you guys lol), but my perfect rejection taught me that doing what is right over what is easy is: (a) rare AF in this age of Tinder and disposable dates, (b) SHOULDN’T be rare AF, and (c) something I need to be doing myself from now on.

"Letting someone down can be difficult." Image supplied. 

Moral of the story: If you’re going to reject someone, how about bucking the trend, and instead of being a tech-gen a-hole, do it properly and politely and make them cry and write an article about it. If they’re not a total tech-gen a-hole themselves, they will thank you for it.

Oh yeah, thank you Holy Grail Unicorn Man. Best. Rejection. Ever.

*FYI, there is nothing amateur about my investigative skills. That was hyperbolic modesty right there.