u/harmlessbeat0

I don’t really know how to explain this properly, but for the past several months I’ve been feeling extremely disconnected from myself and it’s starting to scare me.

It’s not that I don’t know what reality is or anything like that. I know where I am, what people are saying, what’s happening around me. But sometimes in the middle of conversations I suddenly go completely blank. I’ll be staring at the other person and suddenly forget what I was saying, what word I was looking for, or even feel mentally absent for a few seconds.

And when I’m alone, it gets worse.

Sometimes I feel deeply disconnected from my own body, like my skin, skull, and body all feel separate from “me.” The only way I can explain it is that it sometimes feels like I’m observing myself from outside of myself, like third-person perspective almost. I know I’m physically here, I know I’m not hallucinating or anything, but internally it feels terrifying and strange.

I started searching symptoms online and ended up reading about dissociation/depersonalization and things like that, but honestly I don’t know what’s actually happening to me.

I can’t really afford therapy right now and I don’t even know how to explain this to people around me without sounding crazy or dramatic. I’ve been trying so hard to hold onto things that make me feel alive or connected, but lately nothing feels fully real or emotionally grounding.

I also spend a lot of time reading sad poetry, depressive literature, isolating myself emotionally, overthinking relationships, and living inside my own head constantly. I know that probably isn’t helping either.

I just genuinely want to know if anyone else has experienced something like this before. Does this sound like dissociation/depersonalization? Did anything help you feel normal again?

Because honestly I’m scared and exhausted from feeling this disconnected from myself all the time.

I don’t really know how to explain this properly, but for the past several months I’ve been feeling extremely disconnected from myself and it’s starting to scare me.

It’s not that I don’t know what reality is or anything like that. I know where I am, what people are saying, what’s happening around me. But sometimes in the middle of conversations I suddenly go completely blank. I’ll be staring at the other person and suddenly forget what I was saying, what word I was looking for, or even feel mentally absent for a few seconds.

And when I’m alone, it gets worse.

Sometimes I feel deeply disconnected from my own body, like my skin, skull, and body all feel separate from “me.” The only way I can explain it is that it sometimes feels like I’m observing myself from outside of myself, like third-person perspective almost. I know I’m physically here, I know I’m not hallucinating or anything, but internally it feels terrifying and strange.

I started searching symptoms online and ended up reading about dissociation/depersonalization and things like that, but honestly I don’t know what’s actually happening to me.

I can’t really afford therapy right now and I don’t even know how to explain this to people around me without sounding crazy or dramatic. I’ve been trying so hard to hold onto things that make me feel alive or connected, but lately nothing feels fully real or emotionally grounding.

I also spend a lot of time reading sad poetry, depressive literature, isolating myself emotionally, overthinking relationships, and living inside my own head constantly. I know that probably isn’t helping either.

I just genuinely want to know if anyone else has experienced something like this before. Does this sound like dissociation/depersonalization? Did anything help you feel normal again?

Because honestly I’m scared and exhausted from feeling this disconnected from myself all the time.

I don’t really know how to explain this properly, but for the past several months I’ve been feeling extremely disconnected from myself and it’s starting to scare me.

It’s not that I don’t know what reality is or anything like that. I know where I am, what people are saying, what’s happening around me. But sometimes in the middle of conversations I suddenly go completely blank. I’ll be staring at the other person and suddenly forget what I was saying, what word I was looking for, or even feel mentally absent for a few seconds.

And when I’m alone, it gets worse.

Sometimes I feel deeply disconnected from my own body, like my skin, skull, and body all feel separate from “me.” The only way I can explain it is that it sometimes feels like I’m observing myself from outside of myself, like third-person perspective almost. I know I’m physically here, I know I’m not hallucinating or anything, but internally it feels terrifying and strange.

I started searching symptoms online and ended up reading about dissociation/depersonalization and things like that, but honestly I don’t know what’s actually happening to me.

I can’t really afford therapy right now and I don’t even know how to explain this to people around me without sounding crazy or dramatic. I’ve been trying so hard to hold onto things that make me feel alive or connected, but lately nothing feels fully real or emotionally grounding.

I also spend a lot of time reading sad poetry, depressive literature, isolating myself emotionally, overthinking relationships, and living inside my own head constantly. I know that probably isn’t helping either.

I just genuinely want to know if anyone else has experienced something like this before. Does this sound like dissociation/depersonalization? Did anything help you feel normal again?

Because honestly I’m scared and exhausted from feeling this disconnected from myself all the time.

I met my ex again after months. We watched movies together two days in a row, kissed, cuddled, laughed, stared at each other like nothing between us had ever fully died. He kissed my forehead, my cheeks, held me close, and wanted me to come home with him. I refused this time. And somehow in those moments, other convos, I still feel like the most alive version of myself.

That’s the problem.

When he’s around, I become softer, calmer, and motivated. I came home and finished tasks I had been avoiding for weeks. It’s like my nervous system suddenly starts working again when there’s even a little connection between us.

But at the exact same time, I feel deeply unwanted.

Not unwanted physically. That’s easy. Men have always desired me physically. What breaks me is feeling emotionally uncertain all the time. Like I’m good enough to miss, kiss, hold, sleep next to, reconnect with… but never fully choose.

And I know people will say “then leave,” but it’s not that simple when someone genuinely feels emotionally attached to you too. That’s what makes this hurt so much. If he was cold, detached, cruel, or obviously using me, I think I would’ve left long ago.

Instead, it’s this horrible in-between. He comes back. We reconnect. We become soft again. Then ambiguity returns.

And I spiral wondering
Does he actually love me in his own way?
Am I just emotionally familiar?
Am I comforting?
Am I temporary?
Am I only wanted physically?
Would he ever choose me long-term?
Or am I just the person he returns to when life feels lonely?

I’ve started feeling so embarrassed of all my failed relationships because all my friends are getting proposed to, engaged, moving ahead and clearly, while I feel stuck emotionally negotiating love with someone who still cannot fully tell me what I am to him after years. I've started feeling strongly that I am not made for love, love.

The worst part is I don’t even hate him. I think he genuinely cares about me. I think we both feel something very real. But I also think he struggles with closeness, vulnerability, and maybe I’ve spent too long hoping love itself would eventually make someone emotionally ready.

I don’t know anymore. I just know I’m exhausted

//

Last leaf

you were my last leaf.

and maybe that sounds dramatic
to people who have never loved someone
past the point of dignity,
past the point where your body itself
starts memorising their existence.

but i meant it.

i think somewhere between
movie theatres,
late night calls,
shared silences,
your stupidly beautiful sadness
when you smiled,
and the way you explained the world to me
like it was something worth understanding

i started building a home inside you.

quietly.
completely.

you are still in my dms.
still warm.
still kind in ways that confuse me.

you ask if i’m healing.
you tell me to stay safe.
you still leave doors half-open
with sentences like
“see you sometime soon somewhere hopefully :)”

and maybe you don’t even realise
what those words do to me.

because for you,
perhaps they are only kindness.

but for me,
they become resurrection.

you ask me to movies again
as though cinemas were ever
just cinemas to me.

you don’t understand
i stopped watching films
because every frame
started reminding me
of your voice beside me.

the way you explained scenes.
the way your eyes watered
during emotional endings.
the way i used to look at you
instead of the screen sometimes,
thinking
this is the man
i could spend a lifetime loving.

and maybe that was my mistake.

i loved you
in a permanent way
while you liked me
in a surviving way.

and i know,
i know,
you cared for me.

that’s what makes this harder.

because you were never heartless.
never cruel enough
for me to hate you properly.

you just liked me
without the certainty
my soul kept begging for.

so now i sit here,
trying to act normal
while the person i once imagined
continuing my life with
casually exists again
inside my notifications.

funny thing is,
if you asked,
i would still come running to you in a heartbeat.

that is the humiliating part.

not love itself
but how alive it still keeps me.

and i cannot say any of this anymore.

because what is left to say
without sounding insane?

don’t you understand?
i’ve already gone quiet.

there is nothing left
to explain anymore.

every time you said goodbye,
i gave you the space
you always seemed to need from me.

you always wanted distance,
didn’t you?

then why do you keep returning?

i’m alive.
i’ll survive.
whatever happens, happens.

then why do you come back
every few months
just to check if i still exist?

and what could possibly happen
if I don’t exist anymore?

how do i tell someone
that seeing their name appear again
feels like oxygen returning
to a dying room?

how do i tell them
that i am trying so hard
not to turn every small kindness
into hope again?

so instead,
i stay quiet.

and maybe one day
you will never text again.
maybe one day
you will love someone
with the certainty
i spent years waiting for.

ten months have passed
since i shifted cities,
yet somehow
i still feel most alive
only when my eyes meet yours.

when you hold me.
when your hand touches my head.
somehow,
that alone
still feels like home.

sometimes i still want
to drown in your eyes again,
even knowing
i will spend months
starving for them afterwards.

i miss the way
i used to tickle you,
and how your smile
would turn shy after.

i have never missed anyone
this much
in my entire life.

i miss you
more than life itself.

but before life
takes you completely away from me,
i wish you knew this much

you were my last leaf.

and somehow,
even now,
i still keep the door open
for a version of us
that no longer exists.

I’m 25F and I still feel so confused and heartbroken over my past relationship. It’s been almost a year since we ended things, and I still don’t fully understand if I was genuinely being treated badly or if I somehow made everything bigger in my head.

My ex and I were together for almost 2 years, on and off. We had a very push-and-pull dynamic. There are always topics that we aren't educated on, and he used to explain things to me and I used to do it too. But he was never soft about it. He would sound irritated, mocking, cocky, or like I was dumb for not knowing something. Over time, I genuinely started feeling intellectually small around him.

But then there was this girl from his core friend group. I’ll call her L.

She would ask him the exact same questions at times I did, and suddenly he became patient, gentle, calm, understanding. He would explain things to her so kindly. I remember noticing that difference one day and something inside me genuinely broke.

L was always around him. They met almost every night with their group. She would call him daily to ask if he was coming. They spent so much more time together than he ever spent with me.

Meanwhile with me, there was always a limit.

After around 2 hours he would start saying things like:
“You’re wasting my time now, I have more things to focus on.”
Or he’d get irritated if I wanted more time together.

But with her, time never seemed to matter.

At parties everyone else would leave and he would stay back alone with her saying he was helping her clean. They would stay up all night talking, drinking, gaming, hanging out. He took care of her moods. If she wanted to go out, he’d go. If she wanted to drink, he’d join. When I wanted similar things, he usually dismissed me.

Slowly I also started noticing that her interests became his interests.

If she disliked a movie, brand, game, or something I liked, suddenly he’d also start acting like it was stupid. It felt like I was constantly being compared to her without anyone directly saying it.

She got her nails done in a certain style and he started expecting me to maintain myself similarly too. I’m pretty in my own way, but the constant comparison slowly destroyed my confidence. I started wanting to become her just to feel close to the person I loved.

The weirdest part is they called each other “brother and sister.”

But honestly, their actions never fully felt sibling-like to me.

They shared the same birthday, and one day he told me their stars aligned perfectly. I still remember how badly that hurt me. Because there he was emotionally investing so much into another girl while I was literally his girlfriend, and he never even spoke about me that way.

Whenever I brought any of this up, the conversation would turn into me being made to feel insecure, dramatic, feeling too much or crazy.

He also lied constantly about her presence.

He would say she wasn’t there when she actually was. He went shopping with her and lied about it. He went to play pickleball with her and lied about that too meanwhile I had been asking him for months to do those exact things with me.

I spent half the relationship trying to piece together little puzzles from lies, intuition, and inconsistencies just to understand what was even real.

On a group trip they shared a room and slept in the same bed, apparently “platonically,” and everyone around them normalised it because she has a boyfriend too (they’re apparently getting married now).

Emotional differences hurt me so much.

He was softer with her.
Kinder with her.
More patient with her.
More emotionally present with her.

I constantly felt like I was too much.

At one point I told him I loved him and he responded with,
“Don’t shove your love at me forcefully. You’re smothering me. If I ever feel it, I’ll say it.”

I still stayed.

And looking back now, I don’t even know why my self-esteem became so dependent on finally being chosen by him.

The thing that broke me the most happened near the end.

One day I panicked and called L directly. She told me that the last night the group was together, he had told her he was rethinking our entire relationship. Then she told me I should move on.

Hearing that from her instead of from my own boyfriend completely shattered me.

It made me feel like everyone else understood my relationship better than I did.

When it was just the two of us, things felt different. Softer. More intimate. Sometimes I genuinely felt loved by him. But the moment his friend group entered the picture, L, something about him would change and I would start feeling small, distant, or emotionally pushed aside again.

I spent time with his group a few times, and honestly the dynamic always felt different there. Like I was seeing another version of him that I could never fully reach

I know people online love throwing around words like “avoidant attachment,” but genuinely, he did struggle a lot with emotions and vulnerability. And the messed up part is… I still love him enough that sometimes I wonder-
what if L was actually the one person he truly loved, but he never allowed himself to admit it?

What if he was scared of emotions, scared of ruining the friendship, scared of rejection, and just kept me around while emotionally being somewhere else?

(I am avoiding myself here bcoz lmao maybe I m known to be just the side chick in my own relationships)

And honestly? If she really is the person he deeply connects with, I genuinely hope he finds the courage to tell her someday. I’m not saying I want her current relationship or marriage plans to fail. I would never wish that on someone.

I just mean that if she really is his person, I wish he would at least put his feelings out there honestly instead of hiding behind confusion and half-connections forever. ((:

The confusing part is that he genuinely could be kind sometimes. Which is why I still struggle to understand him. I don’t know if he ever loved me in his own way, if he was emotionally in love with her, or if I was simply convenient until he emotionally checked out.

What hurts even more is this pattern in my life.

This wasn’t the first time I sensed another girl emotionally replacing me while I was still in a relationship. My intuition has been right before too.

And now at 25, I genuinely don’t know anymore
Am I insecure and overthinking normal things since I was never part of a huge friend group circle
and idk I keep ending up in relationships where I slowly become emotionally neglected while all these girl bestfriends gets the softer version of my partner

A man in a way the world doesn’t put on posters
Not iron
Not smoke
But a man all the same

A man made of softness sincerity quiet courage
the kind that exists even when no one is watching
the kind that never asked to be approved

There was nothing wrong with the space you took
Nothing to correct
Nothing to harden
You were manly the way rain is manly
steady necessary falling because that is what you do
You never needed to roar to be real

You made people laugh in moments that felt cold
like warmth arriving without warning
You cared without counting
Kindness was never a favor to you
it was instinct
It was manhood built from compassion not command

You cried at movies
and the world did not crack
it softened
You walked away from fights at home
not because you were afraid
but because you were tired of hurting
A man born with a heart too alive to pretend otherwise
A man who felt everything deeply daily

You drew cartoons when silence sat too close
as if lines on paper could keep you company
You played games to feel less alone
to rest inside worlds that asked less of you
You stood beside your mother at the stove
hands learning warmth one chopped vegetable at a time
a man turning care into something ordinary and sacred

Maybe the world never taught you
that this too is masculinity
the tenderness the ache the honesty that trembles
But you carried it anyway
without permission
without armor
A man already whole
even in the places you thought were unfinished

There was never anything wrong with you
Not in your softness
Not in the way your emotions spilled over
Not in choosing gentleness over grandeur
You did not need to be fixed
You only needed to be seen
And you were

Imisshim:)

you
were supposed to hold
our conversations
like fragile glass
close to your chest,
away from other hands.

but instead,
you opened them
like a window,
letting her breeze
enter a room
that was meant
for just us.

you let her read
my messages
the way people
read weather forecasts
predicting storms
in a sky
she never stood under.

she called me controlling,
and suddenly
my name tasted different
from your mouth.
like you had replaced
your own eyes
with hers.

you forgot
that she didn’t know
my pauses,
my cracked laughter,
the way my voice
softened
right before when you
used to take my name.

she wasn’t the one
who felt the tremble
in my hands
when I told you things
I’d never said aloud.

but you let her
rewrite the map
of who I was.

and I learned
how it feels
to stand in a spotlight
I never asked for,
with invisible people
shaping shadows
bigger than me.

you spent nights
with her
not romantically,
but consistently.
quietly.
comfortably.
as if her presence
was gravity
and I
was something
you kept floating away from.

even the man
she was going to marry
noticed the pull
you had toward her
and yet somehow
I was the one
made to feel
out of place.

If she had
a particular interest,
you swore
it was yours too.

But whenever I enjoyed something,
you discovered
a thousand delicate reasons
to dismiss it
things you never
stayed long enough
to truly understand.

and still,
I stayed.
loving you.
while you loved
the version of me
she described.

and then the line
the one that still burns:

“someone like you
will show up again
on a dating app.”

bold
like a torch,
cowardly
like the flame
you used
to burn us down.

and as if that
wasn’t enough

there were the nights.
the mild chill.
the quiet hum
of the city.
the kind of weather
that made people
crave company.

my intuition
always whispered
your truths
before you spoke them.

and when I finally
saw the messages
the ones where you told her
you wanted to drink
on a cold night
something inside me
finally exhaled
in recognition.

because you never
said that to me.
not once.
not in all the nights
that felt perfect
for us.
not in all the pauses
where you could have
invited me closer.

your romantic nights
were never mine.
your softness
was never mine.
your spontaneous wants
were never mine.

I only got
the version of you
edited for survival
not the version
that texted her
with warmth
that should have
been directed
toward the person
you said
you were choosing.

and I’m tired.

tired
of this generation
where someone’s heart
always has
a backup.
a spare.
a shadow.
an almost.

where loyalty
is seasonal,
and attention
is disposable.

maybe that’s why
her words
always mattered
more than mine.

maybe that’s why
you let her
define the shape
of us.

maybe she saw
what I refused
to admit
that we weren’t
building love,
we were assembling
a slow heartbreak
with borrowed tools.

so now,
as strangers
at the edge
of everything
we couldn’t hold together

let me finally
praise her
the way you always did.

let me honour
her clarity,
her intuition,
her unwavering place
in your heart.

because in the end
she was the only one
who understood
the truth of us.

and maybe,
just maybe,
she was right.

her suggestion
to move on
was the only thing
that ever truly
saved us.

Dating apps have introduced me to every kind of person

the broken ones,

the unexpectedly magical ones,

and the ones who teach you everything you never asked to learn.

But somewhere between the swipes, the late-night calls, and the almosts,

I realised something uncomfortable.

So many of my connections collapsed at the intersection of money and emotion.

Not love.

Not values.

Not compatible.

Money.

And not in the flashy “rich vs poor” story everyone assumes.

It’s in the subtle ways we grow up differently.

The invisible ways our parents’ financial security shapes how we move, decide, and love.

I’ve grown up with a certain kind of comfort

not extravagance, not irresponsibility

just enough ease to choose convenience without guilt.

Apparently, that’s enough for men to call me “high maintenance.”

even before knowing who I am or what I truly value.

And then the universe played a plot twist.

I fell for someone who didn’t have the same safety.

Someone who wasn’t ready financially or emotionally.

Someone who had money sometimes, but not the emotional grounding to handle it.

Someone who thought every problem was somehow tied to me.

He saved money in strange places,

yet spent it carelessly in others,

trying to prove it was all reasonable for him, too, in the beginning.

Trying to match an image I never asked him to carry.

It reminded me of that scene from Materialist (2025)

The parking argument.

And that scene hit me like a personal memory.

Every small bill became an unspoken battlefield.

Not because I minded paying,

But because he minded letting me.

And in all of this, there’s a truth I’ve held in my chest

The expensive meals or gifts never define love or romance

That’s just the trend.

The urgency.

The easy, socially accepted routine of “going out.”

Cafés, snacks, overpriced coffees,

it’s what we’ve all settled for.

But I wanted more.

Or maybe I wanted less.

I wish he knew how much I longed for simplicity

to walk with him in a garden instead of a mall,

to cook a meal together instead of checking menus,

to have a life stripped down to the softest, realiest parts

If it meant I could spend it with him.

I wish I could have shown him this.

That I understood.

That materialism didn’t mean shit to me.

That I was willing to trade every piece of comfort, every luxury,

for a love that felt honest.

But he never believed he could meet me where I was.

He carried his insecurities like a secret weight.

And somewhere in that quiet storm of pride, fear, and shame,

our love suffocated.

Out of everyone I’ve met so far, he was my favourite person.

Not perfect.

Not healed.

Not ready.

But real.

More real than all the “perfect” ones combined.

People say money complicates relationships.

But I’ve learned something deeper

It’s not money.

It’s how money makes us feel about ourselves

small, lacking, unworthy.

And sometimes that burden is too heavy for love to carry.

https://preview.redd.it/6duh3qsymu0h1.jpg?width=900&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=c51cbe8aba658db00f36493226aa7144d41d1dcf

you
were supposed to hold
our conversations
like fragile glass
close to your chest,
away from other hands.

but instead,
you opened them
like a window,
letting her breeze
enter a room
that was meant
for just us.

you let her read
my messages
the way people
read weather forecasts
predicting storms
in a sky
she never stood under.

she called me controlling,
and suddenly
my name tasted different
from your mouth.
like you had replaced
your own eyes
with hers.

you forgot
that she didn’t know
my pauses,
my cracked laughter,
the way my voice
softened
right before when you
used to take my name.

she wasn’t the one
who felt the tremble
in my hands
when I told you things
I’d never said aloud.

but you let her
rewrite the map
of who I was.

and I learned
how it feels
to stand in a spotlight
I never asked for,
with invisible people
shaping shadows
bigger than me.

you spent nights
with her
not romantically,
but consistently.
quietly.
comfortably.
as if her presence
was gravity
and I
was something
you kept floating away from.

even the man
she was going to marry
noticed the pull
you had toward her
and yet somehow
I was the one
made to feel
out of place.

If she had
a particular interest,
you swore
it was yours too.

But whenever I enjoyed something,
you discovered
a thousand delicate reasons
to dismiss it
things you never
stayed long enough
to truly understand.

and still,
I stayed.
loving you.
while you loved
the version of me
she described.

and then the line
the one that still burns:

“someone like you
will show up again
on a dating app.”

bold
like a torch,
cowardly
like the flame
you used
to burn us down.

and as if that
wasn’t enough

there were the nights.
the mild chill.
the quiet hum
of the city.
the kind of weather
that made people
crave company.

my intuition
always whispered
your truths
before you spoke them.

and when I finally
saw the messages
the ones where you told her
you wanted to drink
on a cold night
something inside me
finally exhaled
in recognition.

because you never
said that to me.
not once.
not in all the nights
that felt perfect
for us.
not in all the pauses
where you could have
invited me closer.

your romantic nights
were never mine.
your softness
was never mine.
your spontaneous wants
were never mine.

I only got
the version of you
edited for survival
not the version
that texted her
with warmth
that should have
been directed
toward the person
you said
you were choosing.

and I’m tired.

tired
of this generation
where someone’s heart
always has
a backup.
a spare.
a shadow.
an almost.

where loyalty
is seasonal,
and attention
is disposable.

maybe that’s why
her words
always mattered
more than mine.

maybe that’s why
you let her
define the shape
of us.

maybe she saw
what I refused
to admit
that we weren’t
building love,
we were assembling
a slow heartbreak
with borrowed tools.

so now,
as strangers
at the edge
of everything
we couldn’t hold together

let me finally
praise her
the way you always did.

let me honour
her clarity,
her intuition,
her unwavering place
in your heart.

because in the end
she was the only one
who understood
the truth of us.

and maybe,
just maybe,
she was right.

her suggestion
to move on
was the only thing
that ever truly
saved us.

To, Her.

To the girl who didn't know we were both stuck with the same guy,
 
I had to reach out to you once I figured out the mess because women are supposed to support women, not tear each other down. I genuinely wish you all the best because I think we're both wrestling with our storms. We're different individuals, no doubt, and I hope life treats you kindly.
 
You and your friends were smart to cut ties with him. I hope you're in a way better place now. So, I don't know much about you, but your Instagram makes you look pretty darn cool. I'm not like you with that zero-figure beach body that you can flaunt. It also struck me that you guys shared the same mother tongue, and I'm sure you and he were more in sync than he could ever be with me. I don't want to compare, but sometimes my mind drifts there. You dance in your university club, you seem active in all the events held in college—maybe you are that famous kind in your college. As for me, I am the complete opposite of everything you are. All of this has triggered many insecurities within me.
 
But, more importantly, after months now, I've realized that nobody should need someone's validation; their thoughts, mindset, and confidence should be enough to survive in this chaotic world.
 
I tried to understand why he did what he did, and what might have been lacking on my end. I believe he attempted every possible means to win you back before resorting to showing up on my doorstep. I admire the strength you had and the firm decisions you could make to cut him off.
 
I remember the time when he came back to me, crying, begging for another chance, and I don't know if he did that with you too. He still lingers in my messages and calls logs, not sure what he exactly wants. He blamed me for ruining what you guys had, also holding me responsible for losing all his friends. He abused me in so many ways, shouted at me, and I just let it be. He would call and tell me I was the reason he lost hope to live – it was all about him. He used to cut himself on his arms, wrists, and chest, keeping me on video calls to torment and traumatize me. Not once did he ask how I felt or how hard it was for me to live on. I sincerely hope you didn't go through these things. If only you knew this side of him, maybe, just maybe, you could understand life in a different way.
 
It's your life, it's your battle, but what breaks me more is I couldn't lift another girl who sort of went through the same things.
 
He said you guys were friends first, then he fell for you while being with me. Maybe I was never enough. True love means you don't go look for other people around, right? I asked him about you, and the way he talked about you, maybe he never talked about me like that. None of this was on you – we were both in some kind of messed-up illusion.
 
For a month, I managed to meet him in between weeks—shivering, gripped by anxiety, vomiting randomly, getting out of breath. I experienced these things, and I didn't know whom to turn to, so I talked to him. I cried with him, only to realize we can unlove people. There's a quote that goes, 'We are taught to love but never to unlove,” and that's what I learned from this relationship—there's power in unloving someone. The word 'unlove' makes more sense to me than letting go or moving on; because it's about losing respect for them, letting go of the feelings you had, reaching a point where there's neither love nor hate, just indifference, nothing for them at all.
 
I often find myself wondering if there was anything he genuinely liked about me, or if he was simply with me for the benefits—his physical needs, shared cafe outings where I didn't mind paying, being there when he wanted to vent, and helping him out whenever he needed it. Feeling used in every possible way has made it difficult for me to face life each morning. There have been moments when I wished for the pain to end, or that I wouldn't wake up the next day. It's all heavy in my chest.
 
What hurts even more is seeing how exclusive he was with you. He proudly introduced you to his friend circle, treated you well, posted pictures, and took care of you. It felt like he was genuinely proud to have you. He got involved with your friends so much as if they were his best friends too. All this time, I wanted him to treat me like this. I never wanted the gifts or any material thing, I just wanted the time, attention, and loyalty.
 
The heartbreaking part is that he had the capacity to treat a girl so well, as he did with you, but not for me. I wish that he hadn't involved me, so you both at least could have had a pure relationship, and I wouldn’t have been left traumatized. But he wanted the best of both worlds.
 
I'm sure this has affected you deeply as well, considering he spoke about spending a lifetime with you – that's what your friend circle told me. Everything seemed to be happening too quickly, didn't it? He similarly talked to me, making it seem as if he was 'the one,' as if.
 
There's nothing that I miss about him because I realized he was never there for me when I needed him. He never made me feel heard; he never made me feel good about myself. And I have no idea why the hell I was with him in the first place.
 
I know you might still be crossing paths with him in college. And, I genuinely hope you've got the strength to ride through this chaos and find happiness down the road.
 
Sincerely,
The girl who showed you the truth,
And you called her a lying bitch.

A man in a way the world doesn’t put on posters
Not iron
Not smoke
But a man all the same

A man made of softness sincerity quiet courage
the kind that exists even when no one is watching
the kind that never asked to be approved

There was nothing wrong with the space you took
Nothing to correct
Nothing to harden
You were manly the way rain is manly
steady necessary falling because that is what you do
You never needed to roar to be real

You made people laugh in moments that felt cold
like warmth arriving without warning
You cared without counting
Kindness was never a favor to you
it was instinct
It was manhood built from compassion not command

You cried at movies
and the world did not crack
it softened
You walked away from fights at home
not because you were afraid
but because you were tired of hurting
A man born with a heart too alive to pretend otherwise
A man who felt everything deeply daily

You drew cartoons when silence sat too close
as if lines on paper could keep you company
You played games to feel less alone
to rest inside worlds that asked less of you
You stood beside your mother at the stove
hands learning warmth one chopped vegetable at a time
a man turning care into something ordinary and sacred

Maybe the world never taught you
that this too is masculinity
the tenderness the ache the honesty that trembles
But you carried it anyway
without permission
without armor
A man already whole
even in the places you thought were unfinished

There was never anything wrong with you
Not in your softness
Not in the way your emotions spilled over
Not in choosing gentleness over grandeur
You did not need to be fixed
You only needed to be seen
And you were

Imisshim:)

A man in a way the world doesn’t put on posters

Not iron

Not smoke

But a man all the same

A man made of softness sincerity quiet courage

the kind that exists even when no one is watching

the kind that never asked to be approved

There was nothing wrong with the space you took

Nothing to correct

You were manly the way rain is manly

steady, necessary falling because that is what you do

You never needed to roar to be real

You made people laugh in moments that felt cold

like warmth arriving without warning

You cared without counting

Kindness was never a favour to you

It was instinct

It was manhood built from compassion, not command

You cried at movies

and the world did not crack

it softened

You walked away from fights at home

not because you were afraid

but because you were tired of hurting

A man born with a heart too alive to pretend otherwise

A man who felt everything deeply daily

You drew cartoons when silence sat too close

as if lines on paper could keep you company

You played games to feel less alone

to rest inside worlds that asked less of you

You stood beside your mother at the stove

hands learning warmth one chopped vegetable at a time

a man turning care into something ordinary and sacred

Maybe the world never taught you

that this too is masculinity

the tenderness the ache the honesty that trembles

But you carried it anyway

without permission

without armor

A man already whole

even in the places you thought were unfinished

There was never anything wrong with you

Not in your softness

Not in the way your emotions spilt over

Not in choosing gentleness over grandeur

You did not need to be fixed

You only needed to be seen

And you were