Rather be Alone By: Aaliyah Rhame [[Start]]Background: You are a college student starting a friendship with someone you met online. “You’ve been messaging for weeks. Now they want to video call. What do you do?” [[Accept the call, excited to connect.]] [[Stick to texting, it feels safer.]] [[Ghost them, avoiding vulnerability.]]The call goes well and the conversation flows naturally, but you notice they look different than their photos. [[Confront them]] [[Ignore it]]You decide to keep things in the comfort zone of texting. Days turn into weeks of late-night chats, jokes, and memes. But there’s always a barrier — you’ve never heard their voice, never seen them in real time. The relationship grows through words, memes, late-night chats. [[Stay content with digital intimacy]] [[Push for in-person meeting]]You see their message notification, but you don’t open it. Days pass. The conversation fades, leaving you with silence — and a gnawing emptiness. You cut things off, but loneliness lingers. [[Seek new connections online]] [[Reconnect with offline friends]]They admit they edited their photos to feel more confident. [[Accept their honesty]] [[End the call abruptly]]You keep talking and the bond grows, but a small voice in the back of your mind keeps questioning their honesty. [[Continue the relationship despite doubts]] [[Later bring it up gently]]The chats feel safe and fun, but over time you start noticing the limits. The connection never grows beyond screens. [[Keep things as they are]] [[Reflect on what’s missing]] After some hesitation, they agree to meet. The first moments are awkward, but then you start seeing who they really are. [[Embrace the vulnerability]] [[Decide it’s too much]] You jump into a new chat with someone else. The excitement feels fresh, but the cycle repeats: shallow beginnings, no real depth. [[Keep cycling through new connections]] [[Realize the pattern]]You put your phone down and make time for in-person hangouts. It feels awkward at first, but the laughter and closeness remind you of what you’ve been missing. [[Commit to balancing online and offline]] [[Compare them to online excitement]](align:"=><=")+(box:"X=")[Authenticity Ending] You form a genuine (though imperfect) bond through honesty. You build a deeper, more transparent relationship.(align:"=><=")+(box:"X=")[Loneliness Ending] Ghosting leaves you isolated. You feel hurt and betrayed.(align:"=><=")+(box:"X=")[Digital Comfort Ending] You maintain a safe but limited digital-only connection. The friendship lasts but always feels incomplete.(align:"=><=")+(box:"X=")[Balance Ending] You learn to blend digital and in-person connections. They open up, and you move forward with a stronger foundation.(align:"=><=")+(box:"X=")[Digital Comfort Ending] You maintain a safe but limited digital-only connection. You avoid risk, but the relationship remains shallow.(align:"=><=")+(box:"X=")[Loneliness Ending] Ghosting leaves you isolated. You realize digital-only isn’t enough. You either drift apart or seek offline friends.(align:"=><=")+(box:"X=")[Balance Ending] You learn to blend digital and in-person connections. You build trust and find balance between online and offline.(align:"=><=")+(box:"X=")[Authenticity Ending] You’re honest with yourself: you want connection, but only on your terms. It’s imperfect, but real. You retreat back to digital, keeping them at a safe distance.(align:"=><=")+(box:"X=")[Digital Comfort Ending] You maintain a safe but limited digital-only connection. Endless surface-level relationships.(align:"=><=")+(box:"X=")[Authenticity Ending] You’re honest with yourself: you want connection, but only on your terms. It’s imperfect, but real. You admit to yourself that avoidance is the problem.(align:"=><=")+(box:"X=")[Balance Ending] You learn to blend digital and in-person connections. You find a healthier rhythm between screens and real life.(align:"=><=")+(box:"X=")[Loneliness Ending] Ghosting leaves you isolated. The offline world feels slow, and you drift back into isolation.