Lisa O
It’s easy to feel when someone values your time. Things flow better. There’s an ease between you, like both of you know when to pause and when to part. When that awareness is missing, small cracks appear. The calls stretch too long. The plans keep shifting. You tell yourself it’s fine, but over time, the effort starts to feel one-sided. You bend around their pace until your own starts disappearing.
They’re Always Late
You check your watch again, pretending not to care. The place is half-empty, your coffee already gone cold. They eventually arrive, smiling, unaware that you’ve already lost interest in the day. They always have a reason, and it always sounds familiar. Over time, you stop expecting puns. You just notice the pattern—how it’s never them waiting for you.
They Cancel Without Warning
You’ve blocked time, maybe rushed to finish something early, and then the message appears—just a short line calling it off without any reason behind it. And you sit there half ready, the room quiet in a way that feels heavier than it should. It’s not the cancellation itself that stings. It’s the ease of it—the way your plans seem to matter less in their world than in yours.
They Talk Long After You’ve Said You’re Leaving
You stand up, gather your things, and they keep talking as if you hadn’t moved. The story stretches, looping back to old points. You nod out of habit, your mind already halfway out the door. It’s strange how someone can be so unaware of the moment ending. You stop hinting after a while, realizing they’ll never notice the cues you’ve been giving.
They Expect Instant Replies
The messages pile up before you’ve even unlocked your phone. Another comes just as you start typing a response. It’s not conversation—it’s an intrusion. You could be folding laundry, driving, or resting, and they’d still expect an answer. The world revolves around their pace. You feel your patience thinning, not because of the noise, but because they never stop to think you have your own rhythm too.
They Overstay Their Welcome
The night’s winding down. The plates are cleared, and the air feels heavy with quiet. You glance at the clock, but they keep talking. Every hint you give slides past unnoticed. It’s not malice—it’s blindness. They enjoy the comfort of your space without realizing you’ve run out of energy. And when they finally leave, relief hums louder than the goodbye. And you can finally relax.
They Add One More Thing
You close your notebook, thinking you’re done. The call also feels wrapped up, your thoughts already drifting elsewhere. Then they remember something new, a last-minute idea that turns into another stretch of time you hadn’t planned for. You can feel the energy drain out of you as they keep talking. They don’t notice it, of course. Some people mistake availability for endless patience.
They Forget What You Agreed On
You remind them about the plan, and they act surprised, like it was never real. You scroll through old messages to reassure yourself that you’re not imagining it. They laugh it off, saying it must’ve slipped their mind. It always does. You realize some people don’t forget out of accident—they forget because it costs them nothing.
They Interrupt Without Thinking
You begin a thought, and before you’re halfway through, they cut in. Their words pile over yours like a wave. You stop talking mid-sentence, deciding it’s easier that way. They keep going, unaware you’ve given up on finishing. It’s not anger that settles in—it’s something quieter. The feeling that your time speaking never really mattered.
They Stretch Simple Things
A five-minute errand turns into a half-hour. They get distracted, wander off, and start talking about something else. You stand there, watching the moment drag. It’s not laziness—it’s lack of awareness. They don’t see that your time’s tied up in their slowness. You learn to wait without saying much, though it eats at you every time.
They Show Up Unannounced
The doorbell rings, and there they are, smiling like it’s still normal to drop by uninvited. You’re in the middle of work, laundry, maybe just resting, but now you’re entertaining. They stay longer than planned, chatting as if your schedule vanished the moment they arrived. You make tea, but inside, you’re counting the things you won’t finish today.
They Expect You to Wait
You show up on time. They don’t. You scroll through your phone, watch people come and go, and still they take their time. When they finally appear, they act like waiting is part of the plan. It starts to feel that way, too. You stop mentioning it because you know it won’t matter. Some people never realize patience isn’t infinite—it just runs quieter the more it’s used.
They Keep You in Limbo
They never say yes or no. Just enough words to keep you holding space. You leave parts of your day open, hoping they’ll confirm, but silence fills the gap instead. It’s the kind of disregard that doesn’t shout—it lingers. You start pretending you don’t mind, even though the waiting steals time you can’t get back. Eventually, you stop asking, and they don’t even notice the shift.
They Treat Your Work Hours Like Free Time
You tell them you’re working, and they still call. Just a “quick chat,” they say, while your screen sits waiting. They talk about nothing urgent, unaware they’ve pulled you out of focus. You mute yourself mid-call just to breathe. They’ll never understand the shift it causes—the way one small interruption can unravel an entire afternoon.
They Always Have an Excuse
There’s always a reason. The meeting ran long. The day got hectic. However, it’s never their fault. The apologies sound sincere at first, but then they start to blend. You realize the pattern: apologize for bad luck—it’s a habit. They never make time because they know you’ll forgive them.
They Never Apologize for It
When they finally show up, it’s with a smile, no acknowledgement of the time gone. They start talking like nothing happened. You think maybe they’ll mention it, but they don’t. It’s as if your schedule exists somewhere separate from theirs, unimportant, optional. That’s the quiet part that stings—the idea that your time was never something to respect in the first place.