Sometimes I pretend I don’t care, but one text from them can ruin my whole mood.

I’ve mastered the art of acting unbothered.
I laugh loud, post things that look like I’m glowing, talk like nothing gets to me. My friends even think I’m the strongest one in the group.
But all it takes is them.

Their name lighting up my phone can flip my entire chest upside down — either with excitement or pure, sick anxiety.

If they reply too dry, my mood drops.
If they don’t reply at all, my mind turns into chaos.
If they say the wrong thing, I lose appetite.
If they say the right thing, I feel stupid for how good it makes me feel.

I hate it.

I hate giving someone that power without their permission. I hate how I try to act detached while my heart is busy studying every punctuation mark in their messages.
It’s embarrassing, honestly.

Some days I mute them because I want peace.
Other days I stare at my phone because I want anything from them — even a “hmm.”

It’s toxic. It’s childish.
But the truth is simple:

I care too much.
And pretending I don’t is exhausting.

---

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