“I had a nice time, Bruce, but I just don’t think we’re a match,” I said. My voice was steady. I was proud of that. “I wish you the best.”
I thought that was the end of it. NO is a complete sentence, right? That’s what every therapist, every self-help podcast, every empowerment post on Instagram tells you. You have the right to your own space. You have the right to reject someone you don’t want.
But rejection isn’t a boundary to a man like him. To him, it was a challenge. A deeply personal insult.
The texts started the next morning. At first, they were just annoying. “You’re making a mistake.” “Give me another chance, Tanesha.” “You don’t know what you’re throwing away.” I blocked his number. I blocked his social media. I locked my accounts down. I did everything you are supposed to do.
