3:51 A.M. — The Cost of Letting Someone In

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It’s 3:51 a.m. and I’m up thinking about a version of events that doesn’t exist anymore.
The version where I kept my distance.
Where I didn’t let the door open.
Where I didn’t let myself start imagining what “more” could look like.
Because once that door opens, even just a crack, your mind doesn’t walk through it… it sprints.
We spent hours gaming together. Talking. Laughing. Just existing in that space where things feel easy. Natural.
And people like to pretend that doesn’t mean anything.
But it does.
You don’t spend that kind of time with someone and not start to see them. Not just their habits, but who they are underneath all of it.
And she’s a good person. A genuinely good person.
That’s what makes this worse.
Because now I’m stuck trying to reconcile two things that don’t coexist cleanly:
I don’t just want to game with her.
But gaming is all this is allowed to be.
And now comes the part nobody wants to say out loud.
How am I supposed to pretend I don’t want more?
How am I supposed to act like I’m fine with just being the guy she games with…
like I’m not wondering how she’s doing outside of that…
like I don’t want to watch movies with her, talk with her, build something beyond a headset and a lobby?
How do you sit there, knowing what you want, and just… shrink it?
And then the guilt kicks in.
Because now it sounds like:
“Oh, so if she doesn’t want to date you, you don’t want to be around her?”
And that’s not it.
That’s not even close to it.
I don’t see her as something transactional. I don’t see her as a means to an end.
If anything, the problem is the opposite.
I see her as more.
And that’s exactly why this doesn’t work.
Because what people don’t talk about is what happens when you stay in a situation like this.
You don’t just “stay friends.”
You slowly become the version of yourself that’s pretending.
The one who laughs, plays, talks…
while quietly holding onto something that has nowhere to go.
And over time, that doesn’t turn into peace.
It turns into frustration. Or distance. Or both.
And let’s be honest about something else.
Gaming isn’t forever.
People switch games.
Schedules change.
Life shifts.
And the connection fades, not because anything went wrong, but because there’s nothing anchoring it beyond convenience.
And if she gets into a relationship?
That time? Gone. Immediately cut.
Not maliciously. Not intentionally.
Just… naturally.
So now I’m left asking myself something that doesn’t have a clean answer:
Why is it selfish to not want to stay in something that feels incomplete?
Why is it wrong to take a step back, not because I don’t care…
but because I care enough to know this isn’t what I want?
Because the truth is, you can’t just turn feelings off.
There’s no switch.
Once you see someone a certain way, once you feel something real, you don’t just downgrade it on command and keep moving like nothing changed.
That’s not how this works.
And maybe that’s the hardest part.
It’s not even about her specifically.
It’s about what she represents.
A type of person you don’t come across often.
A connection that feels rare enough to matter.
And when you find that… even a glimpse of it… your brain doesn’t just let it go quietly.
So now it’s 3:51 a.m.
And I’m sitting here not trying to figure out how to stop caring.
Because I already know you can’t.
I’m trying to figure out what it costs to keep pretending that I don’t.

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