To the Version of Me Who Tried

I don't think I'll ever force a connection again.

Not like that.

Not where I'm constantly wondering
what I mean to someone.

Not where I'm trying to keep the conversation alive,
trying to find a reason to reach out,
trying to make the distance feel smaller.

Because now I realise
it was mostly in my head.

The closeness.
The meaning.
The possibility.

The idea that maybe,
if I tried a little harder,
cared a little more,
showed up a little more…

something would eventually come of it.

But it didn't.

And maybe it never was.

I was trying to create a connection
that wasn't naturally there.

And the saddest part?

They didn't hurt me as much as I hurt myself.

I kept expecting.
I kept interpreting.
I kept hoping.

And every time reality didn't match
the story in my head,

I was the one who got disappointed.

Not them.

Me.

Because I wanted it to be something.

I wanted them to matter.

I wanted me to matter to them.

And perhaps that's why it took so long
to let go.

I wasn't just letting go of a person.

I was letting go
of an idea.

The idea that maybe
if I just tried enough,

they'd meet me halfway.

But you can't build a bridge
by yourself
and call it a connection.

And I think…

I need to forgive myself for that.

For trying too hard.

For reading too much into things.

For hoping when the signs
were probably already there.

For wanting to be chosen
so badly
that I forgot to ask myself
whether I even felt valued.

I don't want to be cruel
to the version of me
who didn't know better.

She wasn't foolish.

She was just hopeful.

She cared.

She saw something beautiful
and wanted to believe
it could become something more.

And maybe that's not something
I need to be ashamed of.

Maybe I just need to learn
where to place that heart next time.

So no.

I don't think I'll force it again.

If I have to constantly convince myself
that someone wants me around,

I'll believe what their actions
are telling me.

If the connection is there,
I'll nurture it.

If it's mutual,
I'll cherish it.

But if I'm the only one reaching,
I'll stop.

Not because I'm bitter.
Not because I don't care.

But because I've finally learned
that I shouldn't have to abandon myself
just to keep someone else in my life.

Maybe it was all in my head.

Maybe I misunderstood everything.

Maybe I gave it more meaning
than it ever had.

And that's okay.

I'll let myself grieve it.

I'll let myself feel embarrassed.

I'll let myself miss what I thought it was.

And then…

I'll let myself go.

Gently.

Because I don't want this lesson
to turn me into someone colder.

I just want it to make me wiser.

So thank you,
to the version of me
who tried.

You did your best
with what you understood then.

But you don't have to keep trying anymore.

You can stop reaching.

You can stop wondering.

You can stop forcing.

If it doesn't naturally connect,
let it go.

And this time,

instead of hurting myself
trying to make someone stay,

I'll choose to stay
with myself.