Ghosts of Girlfriends Rented: The Haunting Side of Female Companions in Thailand

They say nothing in Thailand’s red-light scene is real—not the smiles, not the love, not the words whispered after midnight. But what if it is?

What if the girl you barfined from Soi Cowboy last year still thinks about you?
What if you still think about her—long after the oil’s been washed off and the plane home has landed?

This is the story of the ones we “rented.”
And how they stay with us… like ghosts.

The First One: Fah from Nana Plaza

She was the third girl I’d taken home that trip, but the first who made me forget it was a transaction.

I met her in Rainbow 2, where the music was too loud and her voice was too soft. She asked questions that felt real. She touched my arm like it wasn’t just skin.

We spent two nights together. She folded my shirt. She took selfies with me. She called me “tee rak” (darling) when I wasn’t paying attention.

I left Bangkok the next day.

A week later, she sent me a LINE message:

“I cook today same food you like. But eat alone now.”

I stared at that message longer than I’d like to admit.

The Second One: Nam from Pattaya’s Soapy World

Nam was a soapy massage girl from a massive palace off Third Road. She looked 22, said she was 26, and was probably 30.

She lured me in with a wink and a giggle. On the mattress, she moved like a trained ballerina—slippery, sensual, confident.

But afterward, when we lay under a towel, she confessed:

“I no like my job. But I don’t know what else I can do.”

I tipped her well. Told her she was amazing. She smiled, thanked me.

But when I walked out, I felt like I’d left something behind.

And I don’t mean my wallet.

The Third One: Dao from a Happy Ending Massage Parlor

Dao was in her mid-thirties, and most guys walked right past her. I didn’t.

In a small oil massage parlor near Asoke, she gave me the slowest, kindest massage of my life. Not sexy. Not erotic. Just healing.

No music. No moaning. Just two human beings sharing quiet.

At the end, she didn’t ask for extra. She didn’t ask for a review.

She just looked at me and said:
“Sometimes, I think massage is just a way for people to feel close without saying why they’re sad.”

I never saw her again.
But I think about her every damn time I feel lonely.

Ghosts We Invite

We call them female escorts, sugar babies, companions, bar girls, massage girls.
We convince ourselves we’re the ones using them.

But often, they leave deeper fingerprints on us than we ever expected.

You don’t just rent the girl.
You rent the feeling of being cared for.
And when it’s gone—you don’t miss the sex.
You miss the softness. The smell. The way she looked at you like you mattered.

Even if it was pretend.
Even if it wasn’t.

Thailand’s Haunting Hug

The most expensive part of hiring a girl in Bangkok or Pattaya isn’t the barfine.
It’s what she takes with her when she leaves: your fantasies, your loneliness, your hope that maybe, this time, it was something more.

They say sex in Thailand is cheap.

They’ve never paid in memory.