Reblogged from: http://thoughtcatalog.com/2013/when-they-dont-love-you-back/
by:
(February 11, 2013)
Entitled: When They Don't Love You Back
There’s a strange feeling that sometimes overcomes us when we’re
reaching out to someone, this feeling of acute embarrassment. “Are we
bothering them?” we ask ourselves, and almost wanting to apologize for
even sending a message in the first place. It’s as though our very
presence in their lives is a nuisance, and our efforts to connect as
friends or lovers is one that only complicates things for them. We want
to say, “I’m sorry that I want to talk to you, it’s weird and I should
probably stop.”
The thing is, you can feel when you’re bothering someone.
It’s not difficult to tell when you are the one who is always reaching
out, always initiating contact, always starting the conversation. You
realize in a way that is at once terribly humiliating and almost
masochistically sweet that you are the one chasing after them. When they
grant you
with their reciprocity, with their attention — nothing feels better. But most times you are left sending a message that you immediately regret, because you know that it only puts one more tallymark in the “you need them, and not the other way around” column.
with their reciprocity, with their attention — nothing feels better. But most times you are left sending a message that you immediately regret, because you know that it only puts one more tallymark in the “you need them, and not the other way around” column.
There are few things more painful than feeling like you’re constantly
going out of your way for someone who is, at best, mildly amused by
your affection. It’s hard to explain the feeling of disappointment
exactly, but it’s mostly directed towards yourself. You can tell when
you send them a good-morning text message, or mail them a gift, or take
the time to do something for them that you know they’ll barely
appreciate — this isn’t going to be reciprocated. This isn’t going to be
really appreciated. Hell, it may not even be noticed. But you can’t
stop yourself.
It’s just a sad, universal truth that there are people we love a lot
who don’t really love us back. Whether platonic or romantic (or even,
sadly enough, familial) there are always going to be these uneven
relationships in which one person is constantly left feeling as though
their emotions and their desires are a mild irritant. There are going to
be friends we go out of our way for who never quite acknowledge us in
return, who will never be there to listen to our problems, who will
never drive out in the middle of the night to pick us up when we’re in
trouble — no matter how much we do these things for them. And there are
going to be lovers with whom we long to construct an entire
relationship, but with whom we will always feel stuck at the frustrating
“beginner phase” where no exchanges go beyond the superficial. It just
happens.
The most difficult thing, it seems, is being able to admit when your
love is going nowhere. Speaking personally, I have watched as more than
one friendship proved themselves to be entirely one-sided, when my
attempts to connect with the person (even in forums as non-committal as
sending a Gchat), were proving increasingly pathetic. I was just way
more into them than they were to me, and there is always a certain
amount of pain in admitting that. You don’t want to confront this person
and tell them, “Hey, look at all of these nice things I do and efforts I
make for you, and you don’t do any of these things in return,” because
it is a sad thing to do.
It’s sad because the truth is that they don’t owe you their
friendship or their love. They don’t owe you the same kind of
relationship you desire from them. You can’t insist, through repeated
action, that someone is now indebted to you because you have proven that
you are worth of something. We make the choice to keep giving our
attention and love to someone who has clearly demonstrated that they
don’t want it, and it is always their choice to make if they one day
decide they want to start reciprocating.
But to break the cycle and force yourself to stop initiating contact,
to stop making effort, and to stop caring about their response — that
is much harder. That means admitting that you have lost a battle you
didn’t even want to acknowledge you were fighting. But when we’re trying
to get someone to love us back, it’s always a battle. And it’s one
we’re almost always guaranteed to lose.
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