We want to mean something to them. We want to be more than just pleasure, more than just eye candy.
That’s why we hold on to them, that’s why we hate them, that’s why it hurts. Because the thought of what “could’ve been,” drowns us. Because we know our self-worth, because we have so much inside, because even though we were the first ones to figure out why it wouldn’t work, we were willing to try, but they weren’t, and that stings.
They denied us the chance to unravel those stories, they denied us the chance to satiate this curiosity,they denied us the chance to even figure out if it was real or just a phase, they left us stuck, in shock, clueless, with all these feelings and doubts and unanswered questions and non-lived experiences.
We want to blame it on their pride, we want to blame it on their insecurities. We told ourselves “they cared” and that “they wanted to,” but they’re too damaged or scared to try. We told ourselves so many excuses and stories…and then we got to the part where we believed “we don’t actually care.”
Until they appear again, everywhere, sometimes without us even looking, and we see them living their lives as if nothing happened.
We see them with women, we see them enjoying and it hurts because reality hits you: They don’t actually care, they never did, and the feeling of rejection takes over, because we let it. Because we don’t want to face it, accept it. We remain indignant at the thought of them not wanting us.
It hurts, also because we let it, because we want a different ending, our ending, but instead, they took what they wanted and shut the door in our faces before we even got the chance to peek.
So when people tell you to move on, ask them: How can you move on from something that you feel is unfinished or simply don’t understand? From someone you’re not even entitled to move on from?