Over It- No Summer Walker

I'm hurt. Like, extremely hurt. But there's also this dash of relief… a little comfort in moving on.

I'm hurt because even after months, there’s been no real reflection on the things he said or did. Even after I told him how his words made me feel, I couldn’t even get an apology—for anything. Just “it wasn’t his intention.” He said there wasn’t any real thought behind being on my page, and at first, I chalked it up to projection. Maybe he still had feelings for me. But now, it’s abundantly clear—he just doesn’t like me. Like, at all. I even pointed things out and he just… affirmed them. That’s what really gets me. He had no genuine care for me, and he confirmed that.

I feel stupid. Delusional—in the worst way.

How can you do all that? Cook for me, buy me flowers, spend real quality time with me… only to treat it all like it was some random text thread or a fling? We shared so many intimate moments. And now it’s a complete 180. That hurts deep. I even told him he made me feel like I wasn’t capable of being loved, and he just replied that he “still wanted to be cool.” As if nothing happened. As if I didn’t mean anything.

How could I be so blind? How could I believe he might be “the one”? It makes me want to turn my feelings off, go MIA. Not to be out here messing around—but because I'm just done.

My self-esteem isn’t shot, but I’m so fed up. Because how fucking weird and narcissistic can you be? You think we’re cool? That you can just “check in”? The last time we spoke, I called you an asshole. How do you ignore that and act like our last convo was peaceful?

Looking back… yea, he was definitely gaslighting me—or at least trying to. I didn’t even bother explaining the full depths of how I felt because it was obvious he didn’t care. This is the same shit that happens when a man sleeps with a woman and ghosts, acting like it was nothing, even though he did the most to mess with her mind.

I’ve learned to spot the red flags—bare minimum effort, emotional confusion—but what do you do when someone who seems like a good man still does real damage? Maybe the signs were there back in Austin. But the things he picked at about me made it harder to see the truth.

I don’t miss him. That’s not why I’m crying. I’m crying because of the performance he pulled off. The delusion he sold me. I’m angry. The same man who talked down on me whenever he was unsatisfied has the nerve to pop back up under the guise of “checking in”? How fucking dare you?

I don’t think he ever liked me. Not really. I think I just looked good on paper. He courted me at first—but not because he wanted me, specifically. Some of those moments were beautiful. I won’t pretend they weren’t. But they’re just that—moments. I don’t need to fantasize about them anymore.

He’s not worth daydreaming about. Not worth manifesting again. Definitely not worth a stare in his direction.

The lack of accountability is honestly wild. And yea, maybe those readings gave me hope—but now? He can keep it. I don’t wish him well, and I don’t wish him harm. He’s just… a memory now.

He told me twice that I meant nothing to him. And I believe him this time.

He's a cornball. Period.

And maybe my friend's assumptions just haven’t played out yet—but there’s no way he had a “come to Jesus” moment and still didn’t apologize. Everything she said feels like the opposite of reality right now. But then again, V said the same. Maybe the time hasn’t come yet. Doesn’t matter. He’s blocked on everything but this laptop, so good luck with that.

He’s not even worth these words. Not worth this note. Because he doesn’t care. And if I keep thinking about it, that’s dangerously close to begging for something that was never meant for me.

He really thought we were “cool.” But what productive conversation have we had since that Saturday? He doesn’t feel the need to clarify or explain a damn thing. He’s just like the last dude I fell for—on and off BS I swore I’d never replay. And I won’t.

I want peace. Understanding. Patience. Maturity. Love.

There’s just no way he thought “checking in” was a good idea. You saw a birthday dress and a  post of me on someone else’s Instagram story—so I must be good? That’s all it took for you to assume I’m okay?

That’s not love. That’s curiosity. And that’s weird. I don’t check your stuff. For what?

This is a test. A real one. A test of whether I actually know my worth. Because I’m not putting up with this shit again.

If this was the final push I needed to let go, then congratulations. Mission accomplished.

I hate that he now knows how I felt. I hate that it makes me feel like a charity case or an ego boost. Just shallow. I don’t understand how he could be this way. But I know this: it’s not about me. It never was. He never cared enough for it to be.

I wish I never went on that date. I wish I never strayed from the plan I had for myself. Maybe it wasn’t a waste of time, not completely. But damn, I want to call it one.

He didn’t deserve me. Didn’t deserve my love, my patience, my understanding, my healing. And right now, I don’t want to love. I don’t want to give anyone a chance. I don’t want to put myself back out there—because I’m scared I’ll just keep running into resistance.

Dating is dating. But this one fucked me up.

Still… I’m not grieving this. I’m not giving it that power. I’m done. He can eat a dick.

Could this have ended peacefully? Yea. With some form of accountability. But that wasn’t received. So here we are.

How does a man check every fucking box and still fumble it like that?

Going forward, I’m giving less, slower. I don’t care how sweet they seem.

I don’t feel lost. But I do feel frustrated. And I don’t want to ask “why me?” to God. I know there are reasons for everything. But this… this sucked.

I was let down, hard. But I’ll never beg a man to love me. I’ll never do that.

And I’m not comparing my story to anyone else’s. What’s for me is for me. It’s the end of the year, and new beginnings are on the horizon. I’m manifesting love, alignment, and someone who deserves what I bring.

I am ready. I am deserving. I just need to do some heart chakra healing first. Because right now? I want to say “fuck it” and stay alone. But that’s not aligned with my higher self—or the love I still believe in.

As for him? He’s irrelevant. A non-factor. You wanted me to let go?

Well—done.