I think everyone has that one person they never expected to become so important.

For me, it was a guy.

Let's call him Piss to keep him anonymous.

I met him on OmeTV during school (which is honestly the most random way possible to meet someone, but whatever) and somehow we ended up talking almost every single day. He lived about three hours away from me, was a year younger than me, and despite all of that, he somehow became someone I looked forward to talking to every day.

He wasn't the type of guy who tried to impress everyone. He was awkward, a little weird, sometimes slow, but in a way that felt genuine. I liked that about him. He'd ask me questions about my day, remember tiny details I had mentioned weeks before, and never made me feel like I was annoying for talking too much. We could text for hours without even noticing how much time had passed.

After what I had experienced with the last guy I talked to, it almost felt unreal.

Piss was simply kind and a really good friend. For the first time in a while, I felt like a guy actually cared about what I had to say.

But there was always another side to him.

He struggled with his mental health more than anyone I'd ever met.

He was admitted to a psychiatric clinic after attempting to end his life multiple times. He talked about depression, loneliness, and how badly he wished someone would just love him. He told me he thought he'd finally be happy if he found the right person. Sometimes he'd tell me about nightmares that felt like they became reality the next day. Other times he'd casually mention things that honestly disturbed me, like watching gore videos or following self-harm and ED communities online.

I never really judged him for it, even though I will never understand how someone could watch stuff like that.

I was mostly worried.

Sometimes I'd spend hours trying to comfort him and lift up his mood after he told me he almost hurt himself. Sometimes he'd tell me he just wanted someone to hold him. Sometimes I'd sit there wondering if I genuinely liked him... or if I was just desperately trying to save someone who was drowning. 

I genuinely didn't know. All I knew was that I cared.

A lot.

Whenever he struggled, I listened. Whenever he talked about suicide, I stayed. Whenever he felt hopeless, I tried reminding him that his life mattered. I wanted him to know that somebody cared.

Looking back now... I cared so much about making sure he wasn't alone that I completely forgot to ask whether I felt alone.

Because slowly...

Things changed.

His replies became slower.

Hours turned into entire days.

The conversations became shorter.

Then one day I realized something that hurt more than I expected.

I'd be sitting there waiting for a reply while he was actively posting TikToks, uploading stories, reposting videos and keeping streaks with other people.

It wasn't that he didn't have time. It felt like he simply didn't have time for me.

At first, I kept trying to understand him.

I told myself that depression made replying probably difficult. Maybe the clinic was exhausting. Maybe he simply didn't have the emotional energy to talk to anyone. Maybe he was overwhelmed. 

I kept giving him the benefit of the doubt because I knew he was struggling.

But after a while, I realized something.

His behavior wasn't just silence.

It was avoidance.

I couldn't ignore how much it was hurting me. I really liked talking to him and I honestly got jealous whenever he would post on his stories about how many streaks he has with his other friends. So instead of arguing, I communicated.

I told him that being ignored made me feel hurt. I explained that I wasn't trying to start drama. I just wanted to understand what had changed. I even told him that if he didn't want me in his life anymore, I would rather hear the truth than be left wondering forever.

His response?

"I can't help it."

Another time:

"I don't know what to say."

That was basically it. No explanation. No conversation. No reassurance. Just excuses that somehow never acknowledged how I felt.

Whenever I tried talking about how I felt, he never really responded to what I was actually saying.

Looking back, I don't think he necessarily wanted to hurt me.

I think he just wanted the conversation to disappear.

Some people avoid uncomfortable conversations because they don't know how to deal with them. Instead of explaining themselves, apologizing, or setting boundaries, they simply shut down and hope the problem solves itself.

But you know, the problem is...

Silence is also an answer.

Avoiding a conversation doesn't make the other person's feelings disappear.

It just leaves them alone with questions you'll probably never answer.

I started questioning everything. Maybe I was too emotional. Maybe I was too attached. Maybe I expected too much. Maybe every guy eventually gets tired of me once I become comfortable enough to be myself. I blamed myself for weeks. 

Eventually I had enough. I stopped asking him to understand me. Not because I stopped caring, because I was tired. Tired of trying to save conversations that only I seemed interested in saving. Tired of wondering whether I had done something wrong. Tired of watching him post stories, repost TikToks, and interact with everyone else while my messages stayed on "Delivered."

I remember sending him one last message.

Something along the lines of: "Please don't text me anymore."

Not because I hated him or because I wanted revenge. I had simply reached the point where hoping hurt more than letting go because every time I opened TikTok (or any other Social Media app) and saw him online while still ignoring me, I would immediately start questioning my own worth.

So, I unfollowed him.

Then I blocked him.

Everywhere.

Not because I hated him. Because watching someone actively use social media while leaving me on delivered every single day was slowly destroying me. Blocking him wasn't about punishing him. It was about finally giving myself a chance to stop waiting. Sometimes people think blocking someone is an act of anger. For me, it wasn't. It was self-preservation.

I thought that chapter of my life was finally over.

About two weeks later, something happened that I genuinely couldn't have made up if I tried.

I received a notification from Twint, which is basically Switzerland's version of Cash App or Venmo. Confused, I opened it.

He had literally sent me 1 Swiss franc (about one US dollar). The payment message simply read:"I'm sorry." 

I stared at my phone for a solid minute because...

Out of every possible way to apologize... He somehow chose online banking?

It was so absurd that I actually laughed. Not because it was funny. Because it was the last thing I ever expected.

After weeks of silence...

After making me question whether I had ever mattered...

His apology arrived attached to one Swiss franc. Wowwww...

I don't know whether he genuinely regretted everything or whether he only realized what he lost once I stopped chasing him. And honestly... I don't think I'll ever know. But maybe I don't need to. Because if there's one thing this whole situation taught me, it's this:

Mental illness can explain someone's behavior but It doesn't automatically excuse every hurtful thing they do.

For a long time, I thought this story was about rejection. Now I think it was about communication. I spent months trying to understand someone who never really tried to understand me back. I kept asking why he had changed.

But eventually I realized that I was asking the wrong question.

The better question was: Why was I fighting so hard for someone who had already stopped fighting for us?

I don't think he's a monster. I don't even think he's a bad person. I think he's someone who avoids difficult conversations because they're uncomfortable. Unfortunately, avoiding those conversations doesn't prevent pain. It simply transfers it onto someone else. And that someone happened to be me.

For the longest time, I thought his distance meant I wasn't enough. Now I realize that someone's inability to communicate says far more about them than it does about my worth.

To this day, I never knew why he started ignoring only me.

I still hope he's okay. 

I truly do.

And I miss him.

But I also hope I never again confuse being needed with being loved. They're not the same thing.

And I deserve someone who doesn't make me question whether I matter in the first place.