Why I Blocked My Crush Without Saying a Word — And Slept Better That Night

I didn’t say goodbye. I didn’t offer an explanation. I didn’t leave a dramatic paragraph for closure. I just hit “block” — and then, for the first time in weeks, I slept through the night.

Let me explain.

He Wasn’t Mine — But I Miss Him Anyway

There’s a special kind of heartbreak that comes from almost.

We never dated. We never kissed. We never even went out for coffee. But still, his presence lingered like perfume in a room I had already left.

He was the “good morning” text I waited for. The reason I wore eyeliner on Zoom calls. The name that popped up on my screen and made me forget whatever I was doing.

But here’s the thing: he was emotionally unavailable.

You know the type. Warm enough to keep you hoping, cold enough to keep you guessing. He’d reply to my texts at midnight, drop deep compliments out of nowhere, send me voice notes that felt like small lullabies… and then disappear for days.

It was intoxicating. And exhausting.

The Mind Games I Never Signed Up For

I convinced myself I was overthinking it.

“That’s just how guys are.”

“He’s busy.”

“He’ll come around.”

Spoiler alert: he never did.

One day, he’d call me “the most emotionally intelligent person I’ve ever met.” The next, he’d ignore my message entirely. I lived in a cycle of decoding silence, reading into emojis, analyzing sentence lengths. I became fluent in a language that had no grammar: mixed signals.

The worst part? I started losing myself.

I’d stay up waiting for his replies. I stopped texting my friends just so I wouldn’t miss his name lighting up my phone. I’d check his Instagram stories with a pathetic kind of hope. Every time he posted a song lyric, I’d wonder if it was about me.

It was never about me.

No Fight, No Closure — Just Silence

I didn’t block him out of anger.

I wasn’t trying to “punish” him.

I didn’t want to provoke a reaction.

I blocked him because I was tired of being stuck in a story I was writing alone.

There wasn’t a dramatic ending. No final conversation. No confrontation. Just me, staring at his profile picture, thumb hovering over the “block” button, heart racing.

And then… tap.

Gone.

What I Learned from the Silence

That night, something shifted.

The anxiety that had been quietly living in my chest loosened its grip. The need for validation disappeared like static fading from a radio. My brain stopped spinning imaginary scenarios. I finally slept — no mental rehearsals, no staring at the ceiling wondering why I wasn’t enough.

Here’s what I realized:

We don’t owe access to people who disturb our peace.

We can love someone and still choose ourselves.

We can miss someone deeply and still walk away without sending a goodbye text wrapped in vulnerability.

Sometimes the most empowering thing you can do is… nothing. No warning. No drama. Just distance.

Blocking Isn’t Petty. It’s Protection.

There’s this idea that blocking someone is extreme, even childish. But I’ve come to believe that blocking is a boundary. It’s saying:

“I choose not to engage with energy that confuses me.”

“I’m done romanticizing uncertainty.”

“I want peace more than I want potential.”

I used to think closure was something someone else gave you. But sometimes, closure is what happens when you finally stop checking your phone. It’s what fills the silence when you stop waiting for a message that was never going to come.

Was He a Bad Person? No. But He Was Bad for Me.

I don’t think he intended to hurt me.

I think he was charming, wounded, and emotionally inconsistent — the kind of person who’s hard to hate, but impossible to hold.

But I’ve learned to stop glorifying the idea of “fixing” someone. Love isn’t supposed to feel like a riddle. You shouldn’t have to earn affection through emotional gymnastics.

The truth is: I loved the version of him that existed in my head — the one I thought he could be if he tried harder, cared more, healed faster.

But you can’t build a relationship with a version.

You can’t sleep peacefully when your heart is in limbo.

Final Thought: Peace Is Louder Than Attention

So yes — I blocked him.

Not because I didn’t care. But because I cared too much for someone who didn’t know what to do with that kind of softness.

And when I did, I reclaimed something I hadn’t felt in weeks: peace.

No more waiting. No more overthinking. No more wishing.

Just silence.

And you know what? That silence was beautiful.

That night, I slept like someone who finally realized:

Loving yourself is louder than any unanswered message.

Question for You:

Have you ever blocked someone without explaining why — just to protect your peace? What happened next?