Inspired by...I guess my feelings for a guy right now.


The Terrible Pain of Loving Someone That Doesn't Love You

The beautiful and pure emotion of love is often accompanied by ultimate pain and anguish. Never in my life, have I ever truly loved someone, so of course when the magic finally hit me, I was startled.

I often found myself looking into your eyes. I saw you, really saw you clearly for the first time. You were perfect in your own imperfect way. My eyes, they were always drawn to yours like some sort magnet. I couldn't look away. Not when there was such a beauty in front of me. Whenever you laughed, it was music to my ears. Hearing you laugh and seeing you smile, even just the faintest trace of joy, made me happy, because I knew you were happy. Whenever I could make you laugh, I soared. It made my day just to see your smile, even in times of terrible stress.

But you were always after someone else. Some other girl, much prettier, funnier, sportier, popular than me. She was always someone that was much better than me, in so many ways.

I always watched, quietly, not saying anything. I knew you would never return my feelings.

I would watch as you smiled and laughed with her. I would watch as she playfully slapped your arm, and you looked at her with so many emotions and warmth. She always made you happier. I couldn't take that away from you. As long as you were happy, I told myself that I would be happy.

You would smile to me and tell me, that you have a crush on someone else. We would laugh together; you would blush whenever you said her name. You would get that look in your eyes whenever she became the topic. You would smile, and my heart would leap at that smile. My heart would soar with joy. I always smiled back, feeling ultimately happy for you, but also hollow and incredibly empty inside. If only, I always thought, if only that smile was meant for me.

You loved her, but I loved you. I envied her, but she was the one you needed, not me.

You would fight with my friends so I could help you with something. You would tug me along to help you practice, and you would make me come along as support. You would push me in front of the teacher whenever they needed a volunteer, holding my hand up for me. I would always laugh and let you, just because it made you smile just so brilliantly.

And that day, you went up, performed awesomely, and I cheered for you, but I was small, and just one in many. You smiled at me, and I returned it, although I knew that I was nothing more than a friend, probably even less.

Then suddenly one day, I found you watching me. You watched me intently, the way I would watch you and allow myself to fall head over heels. That day was the happiest day of my life. I thought, would you finally love me, the way I had always loved you? The next day, I peeked again, just to see whether there was a chance that you loved me. You were still watching me, but today, I realized something different. What was that in your eyes? Was it…was it expectation?

I couldn't see the warmth in your eyes, the kind you had when you looked at her. It hit me, like an avalanche. You didn't love me. You were waiting for me to look at you, because you knew, you knew that I loved you.

I felt a terrible wrenching of my heart. I had jumped so high in joy, thinking I could fly, only to flap my flightless wings and destroy myself on the cold, hard asphalt. So I drew myself in, told myself to build a shield and have some resilience. I looked at other boys. I told myself that I could love another.

But no matter how much I tried to lie to myself, my heart had never moved. I had never, could never stop loving you.

And so it continued. You would smile at me, and I would smile back, tearing myself apart in the process. I saw you with her—oh, were there so many hers—and I saw that light in your eyes, that would never be for me. I saw her also, looking at me. Laughing at me. She knew. Of course she knew, exactly what I felt for you. And so she tried even harder, made me look dumb, and pulled you closer.

You would ask me for help, and I would agree so stupidly. I knew you were using me, but I couldn't bear to refuse you, to choose not to help you.

Then came that day. She turned you down, and took the hand of another. That was the moment I realized, that you loved her, just the way I loved you. My heart felt for you. I had empathy for you. And yet, that understanding only made the pain more unbearable.

You were torn apart, just the way I already was. You told me, just how much you loved her. And again, I felt that terrible, terrible wrenching pain. But you were in need, and so I comforted you, told you that she would see, that you were the one who truly loved her. Oh, the irony, the pain, the destruction of my world. You told me that I couldn't understand your feelings. But little did you know, I understood them, just perfectly. Perhaps even better than you did.

At the same time, a part of me died. I still cannot pin down exactly what part that was—perhaps it was part of my soul—but I was so, so empty.

You thanked me, and took my advice. Soon, you were with another, but the way you looked at the one you had loved, I could tell that you never stopped. You were trying to make yourself see other beauties. Oh, how I longed for you to finally notice me.

Ha. As if that would ever happen.

And so I took my feelings and built a wall. I turned my attention away from you, pretending to like another. My friends teased me for liking the other guy. I always smiled. If only they knew.

I had loved you, given you the power to destroy me, and foolishly trusted that you wouldn't.