I texted first. I double texted. I liked (almost) every one of your selfies, leaving spaces in between so I didn’t seem too desperate for your affection.

I gave you compliments. I dressed up whenever I knew you would be in the same room. I invited you over on weekends. I dropped hints about how much I missed you when you were not around. I worked my hardest to make room for you in my world because you seemed like you were worth the effort.

Even when you ignored my messages and sent mixed signals, I kept pushing forward. I would get upset about how long it was taking you to answer my texts, but I always ended up forgiving you. I would be disappointed about our canceled plans, but would still ask you to hang out when the next weekend rolled around.

I chased after you, because I thought you were nervous about entering a relationship. I thought you were considering whether to make me your girlfriend and if I tried a little harder, then you would feel confident that I was the one.

I thought I was doing the right thing by pursuing you — and honestly, I’m not sure I could have held myself back anyway. All I wanted to do was talk to you. I never could have ignored the temptation to send a cute text. I never could have stopped myself from touching you, complimenting you, daydreaming about kissing you.

But after a while, I became exhausted. The chase tired me out. You never asked me to be your girlfriend, you never put in nearly as much effort as I had been exerting, so I gave up hope of getting together with you. I decided to stop sending the first text and stop blowing up your phone with notifications. I walked away from the idea of us. I accepted that you were never going to feel the same way about me.

I might have stopped chasing after you, but that doesn’t mean I stopped wanting you. That doesn’t mean I stopped scrolling through your social media and fantasizing about what might happen if we ran into each other again.

I still want you. I still have feelings for you. But I am not going to keep chasing after you when you have made it clear nothing is going to happen between us.

I cannot keep putting myself through the agony of analyzing your mixed messages. I cannot deal with the heartache of flirting with you, feeling like I am getting closer to you, and then finding out you’ve found someone else.

I tried to impress you for long enough. If we are going to get together, then it’s your turn to do the work. It’s your turn to send the first text, to try to keep the conversation going, to come up with exciting plans and cry yourself to sleep when they fall through.

I cannot do it anymore. I cannot keep chasing you, even though you’re all that I want.