Why People In Relationships Who Stay In The Dating Pool Are The Worst 🙄🙄🙄

Some days, everything feels like it's spiraling out of control. Today was definitely one of those days for me. I woke up with a plan in mind, thinking I'd breeze through the day like it was nothing. But, of course, life had other ideas. From the moment I opened my eyes, it seemed like the universe was throwing little annoyances my way, one after the other.

It started with the usual hustle—trying to juggle a million things at once. And as much as I tried to stay calm, the small things kept piling up. The missed messages, miscommunications, and the feeling of being stretched too thin all hit me hard. It’s like I was running on a short fuse all day.

There were moments when I just wanted to scream into a pillow. Have you ever had one of those days where no matter what you do, it feels like everything and everyone is out to test your patience? Yeah, today was that kind of day for me.

I hate feeling this way, but I also know it’s part of the ebb and flow of life. Some days, we’re on top of the world. Other days, it feels like we’re drowning in frustration. The important thing is acknowledging it. It’s okay to be pissed off. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. What matters is what comes next.

For now, I’m taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and reminding myself that tomorrow is a new day. A chance to reset. A chance to do better. But for today? Yeah, I’m pissed—and that’s perfectly fine.

8 Things You Unconsciously Do When Depressed 

I was full of hope then suddenly everything went crumbling down.

I just had to take it easy. So much for rushing. Good night!

The 30-Day Love Detox: How to Dump Someone and Boomerang Back into Their Heart Like Nothing Happened

Ah yes, the classic love story: boy meets girl, boy dumps girl, boy realizes 30 days later that life without girl is a bit boring, and voilà, he’s suddenly enlightened. If only all of life’s problems could be solved with this much grace and wisdom! So, for those aspiring romantics out there who want to master the fine art of dump-and-reconnect, I present to you: The 30-Day Love Detox Program!

Step 1: The Dramatic Exit – Make Them Wonder If You're Joining a Cult The first step in this master plan is to make your exit look like you're about to embark on some spiritual journey (cue random deep quotes about "finding yourself"). Pro tip: Try breaking up in the most cliché location possible—maybe a park bench with leaves falling dramatically around you, or at a cafe while you sip on an overpriced artisanal latte. Look them dead in the eyes and say something profound like, “I just need to find out who I really am… without you.” This will leave them thinking, "Wow, maybe they're going to start meditating on a mountaintop?" Spoiler alert: You’re not.

Step 2: Ghost Like a Pro – Silence Speaks Louder Than Words… or Texts Now that you’ve set the stage for your epic transformation (aka, a month of Netflix and scrolling through Tinder), it’s time to ghost like it’s your part-time job. Not a single message. Total radio silence. Make sure your social media presence is carefully curated: post a few artsy photos of sunsets, yoga poses (that you definitely didn’t do), and maybe one of those cryptic "self-growth" memes, like, “Sometimes, you have to lose yourself to become the person you were meant to be.” Deep, right? Meanwhile, you’re really just mastering the art of lounging on your couch.

Step 3: The "Epiphany" – AKA, You Miss Their Netflix Password After a glorious 30 days (definitely not because you’ve run out of things to do or people to swipe left on), it’s time to have your “epiphany.” Suddenly, you’ve realized that they’re the one. Or at least the one who had a really great HBO subscription. So you send the message that every ex just loves to receive out of the blue: “Hey… been thinking a lot. I realize now that what we had was special. Can we talk?” Oh really? It took you a whole month to figure that out? What’s next, he misses your Spotify playlists and suddenly realizes he can’t live without you? Groundbreaking stuff. Because what says personal growth better than completely disregarding the fact that you dumped them for vague, mysterious reasons? Growth, baby. Growth.

Step 4: The Overly Casual Meet-Up – Because We’re Totally Mature Adults Now, suggest the casual meet-up. Something low-key, like grabbing coffee or, better yet, bumping into them “accidentally” at the exact cafe they frequent every Thursday at 4 PM. Apologize for your “growth period,” but don’t overdo it—you don’t want them to think you’re TOO sorry. Let them know you’re ready to “give it another shot,” as if you’re offering a rare, limited-time-only opportunity. Remember to throw in phrases like “fresh start” or “new chapter,” because nothing screams romance like pretending the last chapter wasn’t a dumpster fire.

Step 5: The Reboot – Because What Could Go Wrong? At this point, they might be confused, mildly entertained, or plotting your demise, but hey, you feel like you’ve turned over a new leaf! What could possibly go wrong by giving it another try, right? After all, you’ve had a whole 30 days of spiritual Netflix therapy—totally enough time to rewrite your relationship future. Spoiler alert: The sequel is usually worse than the original, but hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained!

In Conclusion: Why go through all the hassle of working on yourself, learning from your mistakes, or communicating better, when you can just dump someone, wait a month, and swoop back in with a fresh coat of charm? Because in the game of love, nothing says “I’m serious this time” like making a dramatic comeback after a whole four weeks of soul-searching (or, you know, browsing memes) or as if you’ve just come back from some emotional sabbatical.

Kinda having some hard time making friends. Have been talking to my family since lockdown and I never checked anybody. This is funny. And I am also scared making friends. When someone tries to talk to me I think I make them bored and at the end I feel stupid and I don’t even know what to talk about haha omg whyyyyyy

It was 2021, and I had just come out of a relationship with someone who was extremely possessive. It was like I could finally breathe again. For the first time in years, I felt free—free to hold my phone without constantly glancing over my shoulder, free to choose what I wanted to wear, free to spend time with friends, and attend parties without the weight of someone else’s control. It was empowering.

But that freedom didn’t come without its struggles. In the first few months of being on my own, I was hit with a wave of anxiety and uncertainty. I had been so used to someone else dictating my life that I didn’t know how to fully navigate it on my own. It was a strange feeling—after fighting so hard to get out of a relationship that stifled me, I found myself a little lost.

No longer having someone control me was a relief, but it also meant I had to adjust to taking responsibility for everything myself. The simple things I’d once been comfortable letting him handle were now on me. It was daunting, but I reminded myself that I’d fought for this freedom. I wasn’t going to let the discomfort pull me back into old habits.

One of the hardest parts was getting back online and socializing again. I had fallen off the radar for almost two years—no social media posts, no updates, nothing. So when I finally reappeared on Facebook, my friends were shocked. The first messages I received were along the lines of, "Wow, where have you been?!" They were right—two years is a long time to go dark.

Reconnecting wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. I struggled to respond to messages and reach out to people. It was like I had forgotten how to socialize after being isolated for so long. I felt out of place, like I didn’t quite belong in the world I’d left behind. I wanted to rekindle friendships, but I was afraid. Afraid of rejection, afraid of the awkwardness, and afraid of not being the same person they used to know.

But little by little, I’m finding my way back. It hasn’t been smooth or easy, but I’m learning to embrace this new chapter of independence. Every day, I remind myself that this journey is mine to navigate, and no matter how slow the progress, I’m moving forward.

I broke my own heart that day.

He was kind. Nice. And I’m sure he’s a great friend. I saw him for the first time today, and I never thought it would be the last time I’d ever see him.

There was something about the way he smiled, the way his voice carried warmth like a quiet melody. It wasn’t a grand moment—no fireworks or fated encounters—just a fleeting interaction that somehow left its mark on me. Maybe that’s why it hurt so much.

I knew from the beginning that I couldn’t have him, that we were just two strangers passing each other on the street of life. But the heart has a strange way of getting attached to possibilities that never were. It was my own mind weaving stories where none existed, my own emotions building a bridge to nowhere.

And that’s where the heartbreak came. Not from anything he did or said, but from my own actions, my silent hopes. In the end, it was him who chose to walk away, and I, knowing there was no path forward.

But it still stung, that quiet realization: I had broken my own heart, in a moment that no one else would ever know existed.

Feeling queasy.

hahahahahaha!