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.