Why No One Wins When Love Is A Game

By Nikki Vee |  Elite Daily ©

Don’t text back for at least three hours. You can’t act too eager. Don’t call him when he’s with his friends.

Don’t act like you are too interested because boys don’t like that. You can’t make the first move or initiate anything, that’s desperate.

There are so many can’ts, don’ts and rules you need to remember if you plan on dating in this day and age.

Millennial dating isn’t about connecting or spending time with someone who makes you happy anymore.

It’s like the hunger games weren’t realistic enough, so we invented the love games.

The problem with these “love games” is that anyone who plays will ultimately lose. We’re so busy acting aloof and unattainable that we ruin anything potentially great before it even has a chance to get off the ground.

What is the point? Are we so obsessed with power and proving ourselves that we are willing to hurt everyone around us in the process?

A girl actually told me one time that because the guy she was seeing texted her last and she didn’t respond, she had “won.”

What does that even mean?

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To The Person I Gave Up On

By Hannah Garcia | Candy Magazine ©

“We met at the wrong time. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway. Maybe one day years from now, we’ll meet in a coffee shop in a far away city somewhere and we could give it another shot,” said something I saw on my Tumblr dashboard a few months ago.

The first time I read those words, I thought of you. And how things ended between the two of us. And how our relationship will never be the same. And how you’ll never feel the same way about me. And how things would have turned out if I didn’t do what I did and if you didn’t let me do what I did.

Memories of us rushed to my mind. I felt an ache in my chest.

Why would my heart hurt when I’ve already moved on? I don’t know, but it did. Why would I feel sad and full of regret when I was the one who wanted to end what we had in the first place? 

I don’t know, but I did. Why would I miss you? I don’t know, but I did. I missed you.

Of course, the work load I had for the second semester was enough to keep me busy and distracted. I had too much to do so I stopped thinking about you.

I found myself moving on again. I was happy. I was back to my normal life, which was mostly family, friends, work, going out, and a few happy crushes. I was sure that I didn’t miss you.

Okay, I did miss you, but, I miss all of friends too, so I guess it’s safe to say that I missed you in a non-romantic way.

My head was back in the game. I mean, the chances of us seeing each other again were slim to none, anyway, I was very sure I wouldn’t get caught up in the “Gosh, I miss him I wish we were still together” emotions I once had.

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For When He Leaves You, But The Memories Don’t

By Chloe Jundez | Candy Magazine ©

There are a lot of times when I think that you can never ever be taken out of my life.

That our moment, our summer, so glistening and perfect, would last forever. Of course, that didn’t turn out to be true, otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this.

I was terribly afraid. Of losing you. Of not having those 24/7 conversations where I allowed myself only four hours of sleep so I could accommodate you, so I could work around our time difference.

I was terribly afraid of missing out on whatever time table we had figured out, sending a reply minutes too late or not having an internet connection at all. These things would send chills down my spine.

I was blinded by it all—the thrill and initial rush of inexplicable feelings that I didn’t know how to explain. I told myself not to label whatever was going on. After all, how could you label a relationship through a computer screen?

I said I had it under wraps, that despite all the kilig, I had a clear head. I knew, knew so very well deep inside me that this was nothing. Child’s play, done on a whim, just for fun.

So why? I ask myself now, and now, as I see it all fall apart, I see my answer.

It felt real.

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What You Realize When The One Who Got Away Wasn’t The One At All

By Paul Hudson |  Elite Daily ©

I wonder if everyone has that “one who got away.” I know I do.

I almost don’t want to believe everyone has one, but at the same time, I feel like the one individual we love most is always labeled as “that one.”No matter how real or superficial the love was.

Most people seem to go from one love to another, usually finding they’ve fallen deeper, they have reached a new high, this newfound love of theirs is the one they should spend the rest of their life with.

People understand the world from their single perspective, so it makes sense to believe they define love by their sole experiences.

People understand the depth of love according to how deep they themselves have fallen in love.

It does get a bit complicated when you consider the preconceptions we have when it comes to romantic love, but, for the most part, the way people understand the meaning of love hangs on their personal experiences.

Ipso facto, the person you love most defines the meaning of love for you.

In other words, her or she is “the one who got away.” Good? Bad? Depends on your situation.

For most people, the love they experience isn’t true enough to make much of a difference. They move on from one person to the next with sufficient ease.

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How Overthinking Your Relationship Can Lead To Self-Destruction

By Jason Credo |  Elite Daily ©

When life gets tough, there is one of two things we can do: fight or flight. In love, we sign the same deal.

When it becomes hard or complicated, we can fight for our love or let it fly away.

If you let love go, there is always a lingering hope it will fly back to you. But, if you haven’t trained it to fly back, if it hasn’t a clue what to do once it’s released, then what?

What if it flies into oncoming traffic? What if it gets sucked into an airplane?

With this train of thought, without the hope of it the coming back, doesn’t it become more of a self-destruct of your relationship than a letting go of it?

Is this not the point of no return? Where does the line get drawn?

When does the big red button become so tantalizing the only feeling in the world is to press it and watch the fireworks come to life?

For one, it’s a much prettier end to see the twirling embers in every color from scarlet to chartreuse light up the night sky like a funeral pyre.

Watching those three years spent wondering if he’d propose (only to end your nights with lukewarm sex and a sweaty back) blow up is almost incredible.

What better way to end a lackluster streak such as that than with a spectacle far more enjoyable than the ending credits of the 50th action movie you just watched?

That, of course, is the best case scenario. But what about those moments you find yourself overthinking?

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