Today, something inside me shifted. I don’t know if it was the silence that followed our conversation or the words themselves, but my heart feels a little heavier tonight.
We talked — not a fight, not even a disagreement. Just… a conversation. I brought up our future, gently, carefully, not because I’m rushing her into anything, but because I care. Because I dream of something with her. And in that soft moment, she told me she’s not thinking about marriage. She doesn’t want to. Not now. Not anytime soon. Her past has left wounds too deep, too raw, for her to even picture a future with someone.
And I get it. I do. People carry pain in different ways. But still — hearing that… it stung. It wasn’t rejection, exactly. But it wasn’t comfort either. It felt like standing at a doorstep that never opens.
A part of me broke. The part that was slowly healing — from past heartbreaks, from insecurities, from the constant fear that maybe I’m not enough — it cracked again. I smiled during the conversation, nodded, said, “I understand.” But inside, a storm brewed.
Is it something I did wrong? Did I fail to get close enough? Or maybe… maybe she just doesn’t see me as someone worth building a life with. That thought alone tears at my soul.
I try. God knows I try. I do everything I can to make her feel safe, comfortable, loved. I hold back my doubts, suppress my fears, and give her space — even when all I want to do is hold her hand and say, “Let’s do life together.” I’m not asking for a wedding date. I’m not demanding vows. All I want is a little assurance. A whisper that someday, somehow, we’ll get there.
But she won’t say it. She can’t say it.
And now my mind’s spiraling again. Overthinking. Searching for answers on Google, like some digital therapist can explain the ache in my chest. “It’s a red flag,” they say. “She’s emotionally unavailable.” “She’s using you.” And I hate how easily I start believing it. I hate how quickly doubt takes over love.
I don’t want to go back to who I was — the guy who built walls so high, even light couldn’t come in. The one who kept people at arm’s length because it was safer than being hurt. I’ve fought so hard to become softer, kinder, open. I started dreaming again. Believing again.
But tonight, I feel like I’m slipping.
Maybe I am old-fashioned. Maybe wanting to feel loved, to feel wanted, to know I’m not just a placeholder — maybe that makes me too much. But is it really? Is it too much to ask someone you deeply care for to just give you a little clarity? A little promise that this isn’t all one-sided?
I’m willing to wait. For her, I’d wait a lifetime. But I need to know I’m not just waiting for a maybe that’ll never come. I need to know that I’m not just a bandage for her broken past.
For once… just once… I want to feel like I’m someone’s first choice. Not their safe option. Not their distraction. But their forever.
Is that too much to ask?