I’ve been hurt me so many times that I think something inside me finally stopped reacting.

Not because it hurt less, but because it hurt too much for too long.

The first few times, I cried. I begged. I overthought every word and every silence, trying to fix what I thought was broken in me. I felt everything so deeply that it consumed me. But this time is different. This time I just feel empty.

And somehow, that emptiness hurts more.

Because at least sadness means there’s still something left fighting to be loved. But feeling nothing makes me wonder if I’ve finally convinced myself that maybe I’m just impossible to love correctly. Maybe being hurt by the same person over and over teaches you to stop expecting softness. To stop believing apologies. To stop believing you deserve gentleness at all.

I miss the version of me that still felt hope after being hurt.

Now I just feel tired.

Tired of giving people pieces of my heart and watching them handle it carelessly. Tired of pretending I’m okay after every disappointment. Tired of wondering why I can love someone so deeply while still feeling completely alone beside them.

And the worst part is that I still care.

Even after all of it, I still care.

Which makes me feel even more unlovable, because if someone can be loved this hard and still choose to hurt you, you start believing the problem must be you.