How To Accept She Doesn't Care About You

You spend good, long hours just thinking about her. You went on a rare date and they asked you what was on your mind… it was her. You’re the loser who has spent years trying to get over a girl, and the most pathetic part is that she was never ever yours to begin with.

You used to be self aware. With a mildly funny, minorly lame personality that you tried to pass off as quirky, you got girls here and there. You met her and it all went out the window; a sudden reversion to an animal-like state, untrained, unable to speak, only the capacity to drool like a bitch the second you saw her. Any attempt to collect yourself is pointless, your mind blanking on sight because she was more beautiful than you remembered. Your nights were consumed with thoughts of her, guiltfully and uncontrollably jerk happy to the image of her face, her hair, the way she carried herself like the only woman to ever exist. There was nobody but her.

To her you are nothing. A nuisance, at best, but one not even lucky enough to warrant an afterthought. This was the type of woman who lived life her best life and had anything she wanted, why would she spend her time thinking about a nobody like you? You try to console yourself by planning to be useful to her one day when you finally muster the courage, completely ignorant to the fact that she already has the hottest, richest, most capable guys moving mountains for her. She doesn’t lift a finger. She gets paid to do absolutely nothing. You? You slave away at work, but it’s nothing in comparison to what you would do for her.

You’re nothing to her until you’ve given her everything. She doesn’t want the bare minimum, she wants it to hurt, badly, only for it to become the type of pain you long for when you miss her. The type of hurt that meant for once you were doing something right in your pathetic life, a sureness you had been searching for the whole time. Your days meant nothing before you were blanketed in the security she provided—a purpose in life, proof of it being, indeed, worth living. The universe could pull a 180 on you and she’d always be there, ignoring you, taking from you, gracing your life with her existence and nothing more, not even a single thank you. And why should she? You are grateful for her. You are betting your life on her existence. Of course you should say thank you.