Why I keep meeting men with problems

Syel · 25 October 2026

Second drink, and he's telling you about his ex, his father, his job falling apart. And you think: he trusts me.

You listen. You ask the right question, you stay a little later than planned, you find the words he was looking for. When he says "I've never told anyone this," something in you tightens with joy. That touches me, honestly: it's lovely to be the one people confide in.

The man who is doing fine and says nothing about himself on the first night seems closed. Far away.

Except it settles in. He's the one having the hard week, you're the one with room. What you had to say waits, "it's not the moment." What felt like closeness only runs one way: he talks, you listen. You wanted to be let in, and you end up holding up someone else's house.