Collateral Damage..When Moving On Becomes Warfare

I got into something before I was really ready.

Not because I was healed but because I was tangled up in this toxic back-and-forth with someone I couldn’t let go of, even when I tried.

We both did damage but we both enjoyed playing games.

So when someone else stepped in, someone who looked stable, who seemed like he actually had his life together… I thought maybe he was the answer.

He made sense. He felt safer.

But all the stability in the world doesn’t mean shit if you’re still stuck in the past.

At first, it felt good.

To be wanted. To be chosen.

To feel like I was stepping into something real, after months of confusion and emotional whiplash.

But I don’t think I chose that new connection for love. I chose it for leverage. To prove, to him and to myself, that I could move on. That someone saw me, wanted me, chose me without hesitation. It wasn’t about the new guy. It was about the one I still hadn’t let go of. The one who never gave me the ending I needed...just enough bait to keep me circling.

And even with someone new, I kept checking for him.

He’d message me while I was with someone else. Nothing big. Just enough to fuck with my head. A snap. A song. A joke. A memory. A breadcrumb that reminded me I still wasn’t over it. And it hurt. Because deep down, I still wanted to be wanted by him even while pretending I was finally done.

The guy I did choose?

He never had a real chance with that version of me. I was attracted, I wanted to want him, I liked how it felt to be with him, especially after feeling so disposable. I loved the way he looked at me with passion. Like he was ok to get burned by me. But part of me was using him as a middle finger to the last guy. I wanted him to see me move on. I wanted proof that I could be wanted, fast, and I wanted it to sting.

But here’s the part I don’t want to leave out..

Everyone told me I couldn’t have something real with someone new if I was still wrapped up in my old shit. So I stopped talking to him. I did finally let go… maybe not emotionally but I tried.

And the minute I actually chose the new guy, the second I thought I could maybe be all in… he started to pull away.

Suddenly he was too busy, suddenly he had nothing left to give.

It was like the second I finally showed up, someone else checked out.

Sometimes I still wonder if I screwed myself out of something real. If I hadn’t been half-in, half-out, would it have ended differently?

Or did I just do too much damage before I finally tried to do better?

I’ll never know. That’s just something I have to sit with.

And yeah… he hurt me too. Played his part in the mess. Used the openings I walked in with and took advantage of that. But I can’t pretend I didn’t show up fractured and emotionally unavailable myself.

What messes with me most is...I actually thought I was ready. I took a real break… No dating, no texting, no situationships.

I sat with my shit. I healed a lot. So when I got back out there, I really believed I was in a different place.

And for the most part, I was. But some patterns don’t show up until you’re triggered again.

Until someone new starts asking for parts of you that used to belong to someone else.

Until the feelings get real and your nervous system doesn’t know what to do with it. I used to do this back when I was younger …always needing someone lined up emotionally before I let go of the last. I wasn’t sleeping around. But I always needed a safety net. Someone to make the silence feel less brutal.

And I thought I grew out of that. Turns out, healing isn’t just what you do alone. Sometimes it shows up when you’re in it—when you’re trying to let someone close, and all your old shit starts screaming. That’s when the real work begins.

Let’s be honest…

This wasn’t about starting over. This was about retaliation disguised as romance.

You can’t build anything real on top of someone you’re still trying to get over.

You can’t replace grief with attention.

And you sure as hell can’t love someone new while you’re still hoping to be missed by someone old.

I wasn’t fully there.

Not for him.

Not for me.

I wanted to win.

I wanted the one who left me wondering to notice. To feel my absence. To regret it. And in chasing that validation, I betrayed the version of me that actually needed healing.

This is NOT the person I wanted to be. I didn’t try to hurt the new guy on purpose. But I didn’t protect him either.

He became collateral in a war that had nothing to do with him.

And if I’m being real? It wasn’t about wanting either of them. It was about not wanting to feel disposable anymore.

This wasn’t love.

It was strategy.

A performance.

A way to prove I was okay when I wasn’t.

You ever done that? Used someone as a distraction while secretly hoping the one who hurt you would come back?

Tried to look healed when you were still checking their stories?

We all want to win. We want to be the one that got away. We want to be wanted…

Even if it means dragging someone new through our mess just to prove a point.

The real problem isn’t who left, it’s what we do when we feel left behind.

How we use people as proof that we matter, and call it “moving on.”

If you’re here for a redemption arc, I’m not there yet because even while I was being held, I was still reaching for someone who kept letting go.

Everything is alleged,

Mel