Ghosted So Brutally, I Deserve a Documentary

was ghosted so hard by a company once, I’m pretty sure the FBI could open an investigation and still come up with nothing.

Not even fingerprints.

Not a “thanks but no thanks.”

Just vibes and silence.

It started with a job posting that read like it had been ripped from my soul.

I mean, it had everything: creativity, leadership, slightly vague responsibilities that hinted at greatness.

I applied faster than you can say “attached please find my résumé.”

I even used the fancy PDF version—you know, the one with just enough personality to show I’m cool, but not so much that HR thinks I have opinions.

A day later, I got the recruiter email.

“We’d love to chat!”

The clouds parted. Angels sang. LinkedIn gave me a virtual high-five.

The phone screen was magic.

We laughed. We bonded. We shared a mutual distaste for company birthday cupcakes.

They said, “You’re exactly the kind of person we’re looking for.”

I said, “This feels right.”

They said, “Next step is a quick panel—just a formality.”

I said, “I’ll wear my good socks.”

The panel happened.

Three people, one smiling too hard, one who didn’t blink, and one who asked “Where do you see yourself in five years?” like it was a trap.

Still—I nailed it.

I followed up. Sent personalized thank-yous. Used words like “energized” and “alignment.”

I even closed one email with “Looking forward to the possibility of working alongside your talented team.”

I meant that. I was delusional.

And then…

Nothing.

Day one: Silence.

I figured they were busy. It’s Tuesday. Who’s not overwhelmed on a Tuesday?

Day five: Still nothing.

I refreshed Gmail like it was a slot machine.

Hit F5 like it owed me money.

Week two: I started questioning reality.

Did the interview even happen?

Was it a simulation?

Was I talking to AI?

Was I the AI?

Week three: I became a philosopher.

Maybe rejection is a construct.

Maybe I’m the opportunity.

Maybe if I send one more “just following up,” they’ll remember I exist and hand me a badge.

At one point I checked their LinkedIn page and saw they posted a photo of their “growing team” smiling under a balloon arch.

I zoomed in.

I counted chairs.

I analyzed shadows.

Were any of those chairs mine?

No.

They replaced me with a guy named Brad, probably.

He probably didn’t even send a thank-you note. Probably wears Crocs to Zoom calls.

And still—no response.

To this day, that company has not replied.

Not with a “we’ve moved on.”

Not with a “you were a close second.”

Not even with a “unsubscribe.”

Honestly?

It was such a clean ghosting, I respect it.

The professionalism. The commitment to never speaking again.

If they applied the same discipline to project management, they’d be Fortune 500 by now.

So here I am.

Living, thriving, drinking slightly stale coffee, and telling my story like I’m the subject of a true crime docuseries titled:

“The Interview That Vanished: One Man’s Journey Through HR Purgatory.”

Episode 4: “He Sent a Follow-Up… But No One Ever Opened It.”

So if you’ve been ghosted—brutally, silently, existentially—just know you’re not alone.

We are many.

We are caffeinated.

We are still refreshing Gmail.

And someday?

We’ll get an offer.

From someone who doesn’t vanish after asking us where we see ourselves in five years.

And we’ll say,

“Not here, Brad.”