I slept with someone I’ve loved for years… and it made me realize I deserve more.

We’ve been friends for a long time.
He’s everything—hot, rich, powerful, well-connected. The kind of person people orbit around. And somehow, I ended up close to him. We’ve always had a flirtatious bond, one of those complicated emotional entanglements that never quite becomes something but never really goes away either.

For the past two years, he’s been in a toxic relationship—emotionally abusive, controlling. Recently, he finally got out. And in the aftermath, he’s been leaning on those who stayed by his side. I was one of them. I always was.

We had sex once, not too long ago. It wasn’t mind-blowing. It wasn’t bad. But it felt like something I’d wanted for so long finally happened. It was like this wish I had held quietly in my chest for years finally cracked open.

But then… nothing changed.
If anything, it just made things clearer: I wasn’t his first choice. Maybe I never was.
He gave me access, yes. But not his heart. Not his energy. And not the kind of love I’d been hoping for.

I realized I had been acting like one of those “nice guys” I used to criticize—waiting patiently, being good, hoping my loyalty would be rewarded with affection. I kept giving more than I got, thinking that eventually, he’d see me the way I saw him. But that’s not how people work. That’s not how love works.

It hurt. It still does.
Because being close to someone who lives in a world you don’t quite belong to messes with your head. I wanted to be enough. I wanted to be someone he chose, not just someone who was there when he needed comfort.

And maybe the worst part is, I’m not even sure I loved him—the real, messy, hurt version of him.
I think I loved what he represented: status, validation, the idea that if he wanted me, then maybe I was finally “elite” too. I hate how much that mattered to me.

But I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. And here’s where I landed:

I deserve love that feels safe and seen.
I deserve energy that matches mine.
I deserve to stop bending over backwards to be chosen by people who only meet me halfway.

I’m not angry at him. I know he’s hurting too.
But I’m done pouring myself into cups that never fill back up.

I’m still healing. Still letting go.
But if you’re out there chasing someone who makes you feel like you need to earn their love:
Stop.
Love isn’t a reward for good behavior. It’s not a prize you win by waiting long enough.
It’s something that meets you where you are, as you are.

Choose the people who choose you. Every time.