A few days ago, I met someone online—a guy who, from the sta..

A few days ago, I met someone online—a guy who, from the start, seemed genuinely charming. He had humor, intelligence, creativity. We started messaging, but I was too insistent, too focused on myself and what interested me rather than on him. Without really noticing, I kept pressing forward, oblivious to how it might seem. He answered regularly, even asked questions, but eventually, I felt a sharp pang of awareness that I wasn’t truly interesting to him—that he was replying mostly out of politeness.

Yet, through him, I felt something delicate, a strange kindness from the world itself—a feeling I could hardly bear, something both tender and cutting. In the past, feeling even a glimmer of that delicate kindness would have kept me lingering for years, clinging on just to experience it again. But that longing has cost me more than I ever expected. And yesterday, I felt that same sensation rising again. It wasn’t about romance or attraction; it was about the way a stranger’s simple decency can reach you. For him, it was probably just common courtesy, yet in me, it awakened something raw and guarded. A part of me felt torn—one moment wanting to lash out at this gentle hand, the next to flee from it entirely.

So, what did I do? I told him I didn’t want to talk anymore, made it as clear as possible, leaving no room for misunderstanding. I could have tried to explain, to ask how he felt, but I didn’t. It was just me, acting on impulse, already overthinking after only two days of talking. I had been forward enough, already sent him foolish messages. I ran from a connection that hadn’t even been made. But the fear of being intrusive, of being unwanted, felt so much worse than any regret. The dread of seeming pathetic—it’s almost unbearable.

This kind of feeling doesn’t happen often, but every time it does, it’s as if I lose a little something. My chest fills up with scar tissue, leaving less and less space for a heart.

I can admit to myself now that he might have actually found me interesting, that he could have been genuinely open to getting to know me. If that’s true, then I truly regret leaving so abruptly.