La Douleur Exquise [French]: The heart-wrenching pain of wanting someone you can’t have.

I tell myself over and over again how bad it is to want you. I think of you in ways I haven’t thought about anyone in a long time. When I see you I get tongue tied and filled with butterflies. You make me nervous, in a good way. All I can think about is that night and I instantly want your lips on mine again, I want you to wrap your arms around me and pull me in. I want you to whisper sweet nothings in my ear and then tell me how much you want me right after.

I want all that, I want you, but I know I can’t have you.

I can’t have you because you’re not mine to have. You’ve never been mine. You were just like a waterfall I stopped to admire on my path ahead, but instead of only admiring your beauty I feel in and got swept away while you kept flowing into the same pond.

You sucked me in and now you have me hooked. I’m yours for the taking, but you won’t have me.

You won’t have me because you have her.

I know it was a one-night kind of thing; it was just one little kiss, a harmless kiss that nothing will come from. But all it took was one little kiss that got me hooked. I tell myself over and over again that it can’t happen again, that it won’t happen. I’ve come to realize this and I’ve slowly been telling myself I have to accept things as they are.

I keep telling myself you’re not the one I want, but like the saying goes we always want what we can’t have. And all I want is you.

I crave your touch, I want your hands on my body, I’ve wanted you since the moment our eyes locked and I first saw you. You drew me in. You’ve become the itch I can’t scratch, the glue I can’t peel off, the scab I keep picking at. You’ve begun to consume me and as much as I want you, I hate you for that.

I hate you for coming into my life. I hate you for pulling me in. I hate you for the sweet words that came out of your mouth. I hate you for the thoughts you put in my head. But of all the things I’ve come to hate about you, I hate myself more, for hating you, for giving into you and for wanting you.

But as much hate as I feel I know it won’t do anything because when the sun goes down you’re still in my head and part of me still hopes if there was a next time you’d pick me.

For now, I’ll just think of you. I’ll remember your words and cherish your touch because as much as I want you, I know I can’t have you. Not this time, anyway.