I knew that one day my heart would get broken. I never assumed I’d be that 1-in-a million that would get love right the first time around. I knew that being heartbroken was part of a bigger process: the process of growing up.
I never though that I would have my heart broken by someone I couldn’t have. This is more painful than having my heart broken by someone who once loved me. It’s pain caused by deprivation and the realization that I will never know what it feels like to be loved by you.
James Patterson said it best: “Because what’s worse than knowing you want something, besides knowing you can never have it?”
I blame myself because there was a time you were single and I never had the courage to tell you. Now I’m suffering because I was too scared.
I was always so afraid of your reaction, caught up on how it would end, that it never crossed my mind that if I didn’t say anything that I would have to watch you fall in love with someone else.
Part of me feels like I didn’t lose anything because he was never mine to have, but I know that my heart didn’t care. My heart consumed every laugh of his I heard, all the heat I would feel when his hands touched my arm, every time he looked at me for a second too long. I took all of that, emotionally invested everything into something that wasn’t mine to invest in.
I’ve lost a lot of sleep over him. I’ve cried more than I even thought possible because I have his name on my heart and I realize that I need to let him go.
I feel further away from him, yet he still makes my heart skip beats. I know that on my birthday when I blow out my candles, when I see a shooting star, when the clock strikes 11:11 that I will wish for him to want me like I’ve always wanted him.