One of Many

I’ve been realizing something about myself lately, and it’s made dating feel… almost impossible. I don’t like the way “modern dating” works. The talking stages, the almosts, the half-effort, half-interested, half-present energy. The way people collect connections the way others collect keychains — just to have them.

What gets me is when someone shows up and seems to be genuinely interested. They message consistently, they ask real questions, they make you feel seen. And for a moment, you let yourself soften into it. You let yourself believe that maybe this time, it’s different.

But then the energy shifts.
Not dramatically — just slightly enough to notice.
A lag in conversation. A different tone. A little bit of distance.

And I always feel it.
My intuition has never failed me.

So I ask, because I’d rather know than sit in confusion:

“Are you talking to someone else too?”

And the answer is usually yes — said casually, like it’s just the default way of existing.

And maybe for most people, it is.
Maybe people are used to juggling multiple conversations, keeping multiple doors cracked open, making sure they never put too much hope in one place.

But for me? That doesn’t feel like connection.
It feels like I’m just one of many tabs open in someone’s mind.
And I don’t want that.

I don’t want to compete for attention.
I don’t want to wonder where I stand.
I don’t want to be compared, ranked, or treated like just another option in someone’s rotation.

When I’m getting to know someone, I’m actually getting to know them.
I’m present. I’m intentional. I’m paying attention.

It’s not that I’m asking for instant commitment or rushing into labels.
It’s that I believe if you truly feel something growing with someone…
you don’t need to water ten other pots at the same time.

This culture of needing endless options — it’s exhausting.
And I think a lot of it comes from fear.
Fear of choosing wrong.
Fear of being disappointed.
Fear of being vulnerable enough to actually care.

So people spread themselves thin.
They try to keep it “safe” by never choosing fully.
But the truth is — you can’t build something real while your attention is scattered.

Connection requires focus.
Presence.
Risk.

And I am willing to risk caring.
I am willing to show up with honesty.
I am willing to say, “Hey, I want to see where this goes with you.”

What I’m not willing to do is be half-chosen.

If you’re unsure about me, that’s okay — but I’m not staying in that limbo.
If you need options to feel secure, I’m not your person.
If you’re afraid to choose, I’ll choose for you — I’ll walk.

Because I would rather be alone than be someone’s “meanwhile.”
I would rather wait for something real than pretend something shallow feels good enough.

I don’t need perfect.
I just need real.

Someone who is emotionally brave enough to say:

“I don’t need everyone. I just want you.”

Until that person comes, I’ll stay right here —
grounded, self-aware, and unwilling to shrink my heart to fit inside someone else’s indecision.

I am not one of many.
And I’m not interested in being treated like I am.

I want depth.
I want presence.
I want to be chosen.

Fully.
Clearly.
Intentionally.

And I’m willing to wait for that.

-AG-