The Echo of Cold Words

It is cruel, yet deeply fascinating, how you are forced to literally rewire your entire brain after a single event, while the other person goes on to live their life completely unaffected. I read that truth once, then again, and again, until the sheer weight of the pain fully sank in.

Last night, I tried to sleep. I laid on my back for eight hours straight, eyes tightly closed, but not an inch of rest came to me. Instead, I just rewound their words in the dark, over and over. I wasn’t wrong. I didn’t misread it. They meant exactly what they said. And as I replayed that coldness, I actually began to shiver. Words won’t suffice anymore. Actions can’t mend this. No amount of effort matters now because trust is entirely gone, and nothing helps. And I can’t even show their own texts as proof because they proved they are not man/woman of their words.

I could only lie there wondering how the person who claimed, "I can’t talk, I can’t even keep my eyes open," was sleeping after doing all this. The very same person whose excuse was that they couldn’t handle the responsibility, who claimed they were drowned in work and couldn’t find a spare second to text or send a simple update. It turns out, they suddenly found all the time in the world to start it all over again with someone new—while you sat there waiting patiently, genuinely hoping they were just busy (yes, for 24 hours straight).

Sometimes, the only choice left is to keep your heart locked, your emotions shut, and your feelings completely numb. People simply don’t deserve them.

They are the type of people who jump from one person to the next, endlessly searching for something they will never find. They get hooked on the thrill of someone new, leaving you behind like an outdated trend. To them, you suddenly became a "predictable soul"—taken for granted. But they fail to recognize their own flaw: everyone becomes predictable after the first few days. It takes true maturity and courage to stay with the same person, to choose them daily while navigating the realities of the world together.

They aren’t mature enough to understand that life is existential. This initial attractiveness, the curiosity, the superficial fun—it will always unpeel eventually to reveal the exact same human underneath. So they will keep finding new people attractive, maybe even "better," and they will replace you in a span of a few months as if you never existed. They will easily commit to someone they met just yesterday, but never to you. Because you were real. There is no such thing as a genuine one; there is no trustworthy soul.

I look at the world now and remember Shakespeare’s words: all the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players. Everyone is just acting, wearing masks, playing their brief parts. And keeping Jane Wilde Hawking’s story in mind once again, I look at the wreckage left behind and promise myself: I will never, ever let myself be her in this life. I will not be the one left behind while someone else takes the spotlight.

© Chasing Diaries