I assume there's no such thing as a satisfactory response. I'm not significant enough for a brief text indicating you're not interested in hanging out? I'm not important enough to keep wondering where this is heading, because the answer is a loud "nowhere." It bounces off the barriers you constructed between us so many weeks ago with your silence. I'm tired of waiting for a reaction, of telling myself that there's a thought of me someplace, even in the back of your mind, that will ring through like a fingernail on a crystal glass. A distinct sound will reverberate through your head, reminding you that I'm still here... but not for much longer.
I, like you, deserve to be happy. Waiting for something that will never happen promotes life stagnation and progression—it puts a stop to the future and all it has in store. What many people our age forget is that love is more than just deciding to spend your life with someone. It's deciding to spend the rest of your life with them every day when you get up. Love isn't a reaction; it's a daily decision. It's never-ending.
The most vital type of love, though, is the one we typically overlook: self-love. In my frantic desire for affection from you, I gave up that, and I lost sight of who I am and what makes me happy. So, rather than waiting for a text from you that will almost certainly never arrive, I'm choosing myself every day. To remind myself that I am powerful and deserving of being loved the way I wanted to be loved. Someday, I'll be able to receive that type of love from someone else, someone who will enable me to love them.