It’s not that I don’t want to talk to J
In fact, I’d love a proper chat. But calling her back… it sends a message I’m not okay with. It says I was wrong. That I expected too much. That I should’ve been more understanding, more accommodating—put my own needs aside to tend to hers.
Calling her makes it seem like I was too demanding. Like I should have just accepted what she was offering—this constant barrage of emotional drivel I didn’t ask for, especially not at a time when I had my own mess to deal with. By reaching out, I’d be saying I was wrong for taking care of my needs. That hers should always come first.
But it’s not about ego. It’s about not making myself wrong—again.
She’ll think I need her. That I’ve come back to sit through another marathon of her unfiltered stream of complaints, because apparently, I’ve got nothing better to do. That I’ve accepted her terms: take her as she is or there’s no friendship. But if the only option is a friendship where her needs are everything and mine are invisible, I’d rather not have that friendship at all.
She likes to believe she’s never wrong. The whole world is flawed, except her. Everyone else falls short of her pristine expectations, as if she’s some kind of divine judge—and yet her own life is far from perfect. She’s not immune to the same messiness, confusion, and struggle the rest of us face. She’s not above it. She’s not above me.
Maybe I was a little harsh when I said what I did, but what I said was true: she offloads her emotional baggage on me without pause, and expects me to receive it all with a smile. There’s a limit. I’m not a dumping ground. No one is. We all need space to be heard, not just spoken at.
I can’t do the one-way conversation anymore. Hours of non-stop monologue about her problems, her day, her world—without any interest in mine. If the conversation isn’t mutual, if there’s no joy, no curiosity, no exchange—then why am I even in it? Why am I talking to her at all?
That’s all I was trying to say. Maybe not in the nicest way, but it needed to be said. She always has something to unload, and I don’t mind listening—really, I don’t—as long as I also get some space to speak. It can’t always be about her. My needs matter too. And I’m actually proud of myself for finally saying that out loud.
Because if I call her now, it’ll seem like everything’s fine.It’s like I’m giving mixed signals. Like I’ve swept all that under the rug and accepted the same one-sided dynamic again. But everything is not fine. I don’t want to go back to being in a relationship where the only thing she brings is emotional spam and endless monologues.
If she wants to talk to me, she needs to bring more than that. She needs to show up—not just dump and disappear. I’m done pretending that’s enough.