Ars oblivia
Well, this title would have disgusted the younger version of me. If you would’ve asked me a few years ago what I thought of people who gave up, I would’ve called them impatient or selfish. I had somehow convinced myself that anything worth cherishing deserved to be fought for until one side survives. Friendships, relationships, people and even ideas if they had once mattered, then surely, they deserved another attempt. Somewhere along the way I had mistaken perseverance for virtue, as if willingness to endure was itself proof that what I was enduring was worth it. Looking back, I don’t think I was protecting the people I loved. I was protecting the version of myself that couldn’t bear the thought of being someone who gave up. The strange thing about one-sided relationships is that they almost never begin that way. Nobody walks into a friendship thinking they’ll be the only one carrying it. It happens so gradually that you barely notice the balance shifting. You text first because they’...
