Weighing the fear of being alone against the pain of continuing this relationship

I don't want to break up. But it's painful to keep going like this.

There was a time when I stood in that place, neither one nor the other, for a long time.

I was afraid of being alone, so I was desperate to meet someone, anyone. Every time I opened social media, photos of people having fun would catch my eye. For some reason, that was terribly painful. It was a feeling like I was the only one being left behind.

That's why I clung to "this relationship"—not out of love, but because I was afraid of loneliness.

Today, I would like to look at the structure of that balance together with you.

The reason you "continue even though it's painful" might not be love

First, there is something I want to confirm honestly.

What is the reason you are continuing this relationship right now?

Because you love them. Because you have feelings for them. Because it has become a habit. Because you are afraid of being alone. Because you are anxious about whether you will find the next person.

These all look like "reasons to continue," but their contents are completely different.

Love, dependency, habit, and the fear of loneliness are different things. But when you are in a painful situation, they all get mixed up and it looks like "it has to be this person."

If you are "continuing even though it's painful," I want you to stop just once and ask yourself. Are you continuing because you love this person? Or because you are afraid of being alone?

Deconstructing the true nature of the "fear of being alone"

When you vaguely feel "afraid," that fear is usually divided into several layers.

Anxiety about whether you will find the next person.
The impatience that if you become alone at this age, you might never meet anyone again.

The fear of losing a familiar relationship.
The sense of loss at the thought that the time spent with this person, the way you meet, and the tempo of your communication will all disappear.

The fear of the image of "myself being alone."
I think this is why it becomes painful every time you see someone having fun on social media. The feeling that being alone makes you look like a "loser" in some way.

All of these are real fears. I don't want to deny them.

However, I just want you to keep in the corner of your mind that these are all fears of "things that haven't happened yet."

The real reason the scale doesn't tip

The pain and the fear are evenly matched, and I cannot decide on either.

But I don't think that's because the two weights are the same.

The pain is a reality that exists here and now.

It's fun when we're together, but it's unbearable when we're apart. Not knowing what they are doing, not knowing what they are thinking—that anxiety constantly erodes the time we spend apart. This is something that is actually happening right now.

The fear is an imagination of a future that has not yet arrived.

What will happen if I end up alone? Will someone else come along? This only exists in my head for now.

The reason the scale doesn't tip might be because I am placing the current pain and the future hypothesis on the same plate. The units of weight are fundamentally different to begin with.

The meaning of "continuing" also changes

There is just one thing I want to convey here.

"Continuing because I'm afraid" and "continuing because I'm convinced" are completely different, even though they are both "continuing."

When you continue because you are pushed by fear, you are not the subject of that relationship. Fear is the subject, and you are being moved by it. That kind of time slowly wears you down.

"I am choosing to be in this relationship right now"—whether or not you can say that. That is the only turning point between being drained while staying in the same place.

I don't mean to say, "Let go right now." I don't think continuing is a mistake either. However, a "continuing" forced upon you by fear will inevitably reach its limit someday.

The scale doesn't have to tip to either side

You don't have to come up with an answer.

I just want you to ask yourself one thing.

The current pain and the fear of being alone—have you ever verified their weight yourself?

Not because someone told you to, and not because you're just going with the flow, but have you ever held the scale with your own hands?

Because I think just doing that can change things a little.