Love letters from HR

My email inbox is starting to look less like a professional communication hub and more like a tragic collection of love letters from HR.

You know the ones I mean:

“Thank you for your interest… but we’ve decided to move forward with another candidate.”

A classic. Subtle. A real tear-jerker.

Or my personal favorite:

“After careful consideration, we regret to inform you…”

Oh, the drama. The heartbreak. Somewhere, a tiny violin is playing.

Then there’s the super creative:

“We appreciate your time, but we’re pursuing other applicants at this time.”

I didn’t even get ghosted — I got gently friend-zoned by a corporate bot.

Some of these emails read like they’re trying to let me down easy, as if I might show up outside their office window holding a boombox.

I half expect the next email to say:

“It’s not you, it’s us. We’re just not in the right place to commit to a new hire right now. We hope we can still be friends… maybe keep your résumé on file and awkwardly watch your LinkedIn updates from afar.”

At this point, I feel like I’m living in a rom-com montage where I keep trying to date the company of my dreams, only to get ghosted after the first coffee date (or worse — after they meet my résumé and decide they’re “just not ready for a serious applicant right now”).

My inbox is now a museum of “what could have been” — each email a carefully crafted rejection haiku, delivered right to my soul at 2:37 a.m. because HR apparently only works the night shift when rejecting me.

Meanwhile, I’m out here rewriting my résumé like it’s a love letter:

“Dear Company,

I promise I’m fun, responsible, and good with spreadsheets. Please give me a chance to prove my undying loyalty and that I bring my own snacks to meetings.”

But despite it all, I can’t help but laugh. Because each “no” is just a step closer to the right “yes.” And each weird, polite rejection is proof that I’m trying. I’m showing up. I’m putting myself out there — even when it feels like I’m stuck in a long-distance relationship with the entire hiring world.

So, to everyone else out there collecting HR love letters like Pokémon cards, you’re not alone.

We might not get the rose, the final offer, or the dreamy salary package today. But one day, the right “yes” will come along — the kind that makes all these corporate breakups worth it.

Until then, let’s keep showing up, rewriting our love letters (I mean, résumés), and sharing these hilariously tragic stories with each other.

Because if we can’t laugh at our inbox full of heartbreak, we’ll end up crying into our fourth cup of coffee at 3 a.m. — and that’s just not a good look.

Hang in there. Your happily-ever-after offer letter is out there somewhere, drafting its own “We are thrilled to welcome you aboard” email as we speak.