I gave everything. It still wasn’t enough.

Have you ever chatted with someone who makes it feel like an interview? They answer every question seriously, but never ask anything back.

Today I chatted online with a girl and asked her many questions. She answered each one, sometimes at length, but did not ask me anything in return, so the conversation felt like I was interviewing her. I still don’t know whether she wanted to chat with me.

Online dating is so exhausting.But walking up to someone offline always feels a bit creepy.

I have been single for a few years and want to find a girlfriend. I have tried several dating apps, but online conversations leave me tired because I am unsure whether women are genuinely seeking a relationship, just chatting, or trying to earn money. I also find it very difficult to speak directly to a stranger or walk up to someone offline.

On a first date like this, should I have paid for the whole meal, or would it have been more appropriate for us to split the bill?

I met a woman for the first time after chatting with her online for a long time. We had lunch, and she left without offering to split the bill, so I paid for everything.

I love her, but I don't know how to tell her.

In high school, I cared deeply for a classmate and quietly helped her, but I never found the courage to speak to her, so she graduated without knowing that I liked her. I still imagine what I would do if I had the chance to meet her now.

How can I tell whether leaving is the right choice when I still care about her but feel that my efforts have not made the relationship feel close or mutual?

I have been trying hard to make my girlfriend happy for about a year, including spending money on gifts and activities, but I still feel lonely, shut out of parts of her life, and unsure that she really knows or wants to know me. I am now wondering whether I should leave.

How do you live next to a dream you fully funded and still lost?

I spent my twenties trying to make it as a violinist — the practice, the auditions, the poverty. I stopped at thirty-one. People say at least I tried, but I gave it everything and everything was not enough.

How do you stop auditing yourself when someone leaves after you gave everything?

I spent eight years holding my marriage together — therapy, date nights, carrying the finances when he lost his job. He left anyway, and told me I had been "too much". I keep replaying what more I could have given.

How did you separate the failure of a thing from the failure of yourself?

I put five years and all my savings into my company. We still shut down last month. Everyone says the experience is valuable, but it just feels like proof that I was not enough.

How do you handle your best effort not moving the outcome at all?

I did everything right after the diagnosis — every protocol, every diet, every appointment. The disease progressed anyway. My doctor says it is not my fault, but effort was the only control I had.

How did you learn where your everything ends and someone else's part begins?

I spent ten years trying to save my brother from addiction — the rehabs I paid for, the calls at all hours, the bailouts. He is still using. My mother says I gave up on him because I finally stopped.

What do you do when "enough" keeps moving every time you reach it?

My parents crossed an ocean for me, and I did everything right — the degree, the job, the money home every month. My father still compares me to cousins who did more. I am tired in a way sleep does not fix.

Can you make peace with an ending that ignored everything you poured into it?

I quit my job to care for my mother through her last two years. She died angry at her illness, sometimes at me, and we never got the peaceful goodbye I gave everything for.

How do you keep working after learning your maximum was not the currency that mattered?

For six years I was the first one in and the last one out, covering everyone's gaps. They gave the role to an external hire and called me "invaluable where I am". I do not know how to work at a normal pace anymore.

How do you keep giving without becoming bitter about what never comes back?

I was the friend who always showed up — hospital visits, moving days, 3am calls. When I got sick last year, almost nobody came. I feel stupid for keeping score, and stupider for being surprised.

When the person you gave everything to does not want it, what do you do with the leftover love?

I built my whole life around my son — schools, moves, my own career shelved. He is an adult now and barely calls, and my sister says I smothered him. Giving everything was the only way I knew to love.