That's why I often chose not the real person, but their potential.

I liked to think: he's having a hard time now, but later he'll open up. He's distant now, but next to me he'll soften. He's not ready now, but later he'll realize how lucky he is. It was as if I was building a relationship not with the person I'm with, but with the image of a future man.

It's a very insidious trap.

While you love potential, you ignore the present. You don't notice indifference. You justify a lack of effort. You tolerate things that haven't made you happy for a long time. And all the while, you're waiting for a person who doesn't yet exist.

I saw this especially clearly after one story, where I invested too much of my heart. I supported, explained, endured, believed in change. But the person didn't change. Because they didn't ask for change. It was my idea, not his.

Then I was hurt by a simple thought: I didn't love him, but my hope.

After that, a lot became clearer. You can't grow up for another adult. You can't want a relationship for them. You can't give readiness to someone who didn't choose it for themselves.

Now I see things differently. What matters to me isn't potential, but actions today. Not promises, but participation. Not pretty talk about the future, but how the person treats me now.

This isn't cynicism. It's respect for reality.

Love isn't a project to improve another person. It's a meeting of two people who already want to be adults, honest, and capable of intimacy themselves.

And if everything rests solely on your belief in someone else's future changes, then what's at stake isn't a relationship, but an expectation.