When A Young Man Stops Believing In Himself He Becomes A Victim By Choice

You remember her name. You remember the exact words she used. Maybe it was two years ago. Maybe it was two weeks ago. Either way, you're still standing in that moment, replaying it like it's still happening. That's not heartbreak anymore. That's a cell you built yourself, and you're the only one still locked inside it.

Every rejection you refuse to let go of becomes another bar. Enough of them and you've got a full prison, one you carry into every new room, every new woman, every new chance you get. She's not thinking about you. You're doing that job for her, for free, on a loop.