I texted you again, expecting to get an answer, but nothing. All I wanted was to have a conversation with you.

I wrote the above line months ago, about my try to date this girl. How pitiful it seems now. In hindsight, I am happy she never answered me. I think I would have just been playing on her emotions to make her like me.

At the time, it felt like rejection—an echoing silence that bruised my ego. But now, with distance, I see that silence as a gift. It prevented me from entering something with insincere intentions. I wasn’t trying to connect deeply. I aimed to manipulate. I wanted to craft an image of myself that would appeal to her.

Relationships, like all meaningful interactions, should stem from authenticity. I’ve learned to face the discomfort of self-reflection. It’s better than dragging someone else into the theater of my insecurities. Growth often begins where the ego ends.