"On Monday you get a “Sorry about this weekend, I got super busy,” text, “No worries! Let’s try for next weekend” you say, “For sure,” the object of your affection replies. Then… nothing. (The prolonged slow-fade is when this process occurs multiple times over the course of several weeks to months. It’s also known as: “Bitch get a clue, it’s not happening.”)
You can’t quite figure out what happened because… nothing happened. It’s almost like your paramour ceased to exist. You don’t want to follow up with a “What happened to you?” because that might seem desperate but mostly, because you know exactly what happened. You got slow-faded and it effing sucks.
The slow-fade is cowardly and at its root, dishonest. Just say “You know what, I think you’re a super down girl and all, but I’m just not feeling anything here, no hard feelings.” I would be SO FINE with that. I would cherish that. I would keep that text as long as my phone would let me. I can do something with that. I can file that experience in the “Tried it, didn’t work out, not my fault,” category.
You know what I can’t do anything with? Nothing. When you disappear into the ether without any indication why, all I can do is come up with a million and a half reasons why you’re not into me. Until you close the door and close it completely, I can hold on to that tiny unrealistic shred of hope that you DO still want to hang out, and that maybe you’ll call (text, who am I kidding, nobody calls anymore and I hate it) and it’ll all be great."