There is a certain person who on the surface appears to want love. They listen very attentively often repeating what you say to them, reassuring you that they truly care. They remember your favourite order at that coffee shop you told them you love. They check in very often because they know how much you value clear interest. They know how to string together words into the most charming of messages. They are alive to who you are, and in all essence see the real you.

Yet, there is a problem. They do this with just about anyone. You’re after all one of seven people they’re currently talking to. They have three events to go to this weekend. They were out with friends last week. They’ll be unavailable next week.

When you have them, it is very satisfying. You’re briefly their entire world. They tell you how much they missed you. How much they were looking forward it, and how happy they are to spend time with you again. But soon they will be gone again, busy with work or another gathering, and deep down you know you will never have them.

As confusing and frustrating as this cycle might be, it all started with a single feeling: this person wasn’t anyone’s first choice. Their parents preferred their sibling more, peers brought no companionship, no validation, no experience of being valued. For so long they had no sense of being chosen. They understand invisibility and make you feel seen because invisibility is all they’ve known. And in time - often in pursuit of someone new - they will teach you the same lesson that they were taught all long, because it gives them a temporary sense of strength knowing that you are the weak one.

To them being chosen matters more than anything else. What’s important isn’t who’s choosing but rather how many. Having 100 notifications from many people means more than focused attention from one. They might have a partner who loves them a lot. Yet, it won’t matter because why put your trust deeply in one person when you could be admired by many and in turn limit the risk of being left? No one really chose them, so they aren’t going to choose you.

A long the way the lesson was always them same: you aren’t good enough.

This is the wound they carry around. This is what drives them at night to leave their loving home in pursuit of another connection. Now they can finally say, I am OKAY, seven people are anxiously waiting on me.

It has nothing to do with a relationship, in fact deep down it’s extremely lonely. Yet they keep pushing on because loneliness is easier to ignore when there’s a crowd begging for your attention and a gathering to attend.

Relationships are scary. One person to witness all your flaws, someone who might get angry (perhaps like father). Someone who might hurt you. Someone you might learn to depend on, to then turn around and leave.

The romantic tourist gives us an insight into the depth of fear that those who have been ignored early on carry. Stuck in the cycle of fearing the very thing they often claim to desire.

There are those among us who can’t progress beyond the first requirement of love: being chosen by someone. We should be sorry for them of course, as we should carefully guard ourselves against them.