Have you ever had that one friend — someone you know so well that you’ve simply accepted he’s… not the most sensitive person in the world?

You already understand how he is. You’ve seen how he misses the obvious signs — the tone in your voice, the slower replies, the way you quietly start pulling away. You know he probably won’t notice.

And yet, a small part of you still hopes he will. That maybe, this time, he’ll sense something’s off. That he’ll realize you’re upset and ask if you’re okay.

It’s almost funny, because about 98% of you is absolutely sure he won’t get it. But the remaining 2% holds on anyway—hoping he might notice, hoping for just a little bit of understanding that never really comes.

And you know what’s worse? You don’t even feel like you have the right to be upset.

You can’t tell him how to act or how to treat you, because you’re not entitled to that. Not yet, at least. For now, you’re just… a friend.

So in the end, you pretend everything’s normal.

There are things you need to talk about with him — important things that need coordination. So you hold everything in, act like you’re fine, and he never realizes you’re actually hurt.

When I finally told him I was a little upset, we talked again today for coordination. And he didn’t ask how I was feeling, whether I was still upset or not. He just talked about work, as if nothing had ever happened.

I waited until the end of the conversation, hoping he’d say something… anything. But that question never came. So I stayed quiet, keeping everything to myself, unable to explain why I felt the way I did.

Maybe it’s fine. I’ll handle it on my own.

In the end, he did remember — he texted me later. But honestly, I’m still a little upset.

“You’re not even anyone special to him, so why are you getting upset? You’re just coordinating a wedding together. Stop acting like a kid. Come on — you’re too old for this.”

So in the end, I apologized to him — for being dramatic, childish, and unnecessarily emotional these past few days.

Right now, if he ever does the same thing again, all I can do is take a very deep breath… And cry when it becomes too overwhelming.

Do you think that makes me too much?

Note to myself :

In the end, I realized that growing up isn’t just about becoming stronger — it’s about learning when to hold on, when to let go, and when to quietly accept the things that aren’t yours to claim.

Maybe he’ll never fully understand how much I overthink, how deeply I feel, or how easily I get overwhelmed. Maybe he doesn’t need to.

What matters is that I’m learning to understand myself — the way I react, the way my heart works, and the way I’m still trying to balance softness with maturity.

For now, I’ll keep showing up where I’m needed, doing what I have to do, and carrying my feelings with grace, even when they get heavy.

And whether this story ends, shifts, or continues in ways I can’t predict, I’ll let time reveal it gently.

And that choice — quietly, steadily — becomes the foundation of who you are becoming.