By now, everyone’s heard the term, “breadcrumbing.” It means someone who leads you on, texts you with vague plans but never manages to solidify them, drops out of touch for long periods of time only to show back up when they suspect you’re losing interest. It’s a common thing, made even more so with the advent of texting.

Glamour Man is a prime example of a breadcrumber. We started off as friends, then dated briefly. He’d text me something every single day, sometimes more than that during our early days. Then, without explanation, he disappeared, only to reappear again. Back and forth this went, until I started ignoring his texts. That’s when he started up again.

He remembered my birthday and sent me a text. “I’ll call you tonight and we’ll catch up,” he said. “I’m having a party,” I replied. “Why don’t you come? Bring wine.” Without saying yes or no, he gave me some kind of noncommittal answer, then ended it with saying I should call him for a brief celebratory call.

Had this been me a few years ago, I’d be desperately hanging onto these crumbs of bread. It’s proof the guy is really into me. He’s just busy, that’s all. Or so I’d think.

The evolved version of me knows this is a bunch of hooey. I didn’t call him. What for? Besides, I had a houseful of guests who wanted to be with me, to celebrate my birthday, and appreciate me for the wonderful person I am (hey, if I don’t think I’m wonderful, who else will?).

While I might be surmising a few things, I think it’s safe to say that Glamour Man probably did feel an attraction toward me, and probably still might. But I’m most likely not the only woman he feels this way about, either. He is separated, and it probably feels great for his ego that he can still attract someone – me or anyone else. Or he just doesn’t have it in him to start a relationship, which is fine. I get it. But geez, be honest about it, okay?

Breadcrumbing is a lame form of keeping someone who might just be able to return that affection in the loop, without actually looping them in. There is some interest shown in the comings and goings of your life, but not enough to ask deeper questions. It’s manipulation on every level, knowing that you’re interested in him (or her), and taking that interest to an almost abusive level.

I liked Glamour Man because he’s smart, funny and interesting. It’s a trait I look for in all of my relationships – platonic or romantic. A part of me still likes him, and wishes things could’ve worked out. After a couple of months of breadcrumbing, however, it’s time to let go. I actually made the decision to do so at the turn of the new year. And what’s funny is I never initiate texts, ever. He always did, especially if a few weeks went by and I said nothing.

While I was with my friend Angela during her consultation with the pancreatic oncologist, my iWatch dinged. It was Glamour Man, texting to say something meaningless. I ignored it. Talk about timing! A week later I remembered to answer it with the truth: I’d been tending to my friend. He answered with something a bit heavy that had happened to him, but not enough depth to make it significant or worth my time answering it. I left it unanswered and continued on with my life.

There’s a party this weekend that both of us planned to attend. I’d been working straight through on a project for my job three weeks now, even on Saturday and Sunday, and I bowed out. Too tired to go, and I really need to rest. Glamour Man said it would be great to see me after all this time. I replied I wasn’t going, and explained why. He didn’t even say he’d miss me not being there.

I’m neither surprised nor upset. It’s who he is. Mr. Breadcrumbs.

So as I embark on my path to meet someone on a dating site, breadcrumbing will be a real thing. It happens. But you know what? This sort of thing has been happening throughout history. Men leading women on and not showing up. Or vice versa. Now that I know better, I’ll ask straight out if someone really wants to meet me, or is just vaguely interested. Everyone deserves a period of time, but I’m not going to waste any more of mine. If I can’t meet, in person, someone who shares what appears to be an attraction, I’m going to move on.

We are only here for so long on this earth. I’m going forward, making the most of mine. There’s someone out there for me and I will connect with him. Because I’m certain of this: he’s looking for me, wondering where I am, and it’s only a matter of a right swipe that we find each other.

And we will.