It probably starts with toying around with the thought. When you see them in a different light, a different perspective. But then again, you start to get confused. You highlight the fact that maybe you just want to be around them because they’re funny and fight back the thought that they actually make you laugh (or happy for that matter). It’s a constant push and pull. Between your mind and heart. Question marks everywhere.
Then, the pushes and pulls are gone. This phase starts with the admission, usually by writing about him. You have feelings. No amount of justification can drive them away. Just like when they say that one day you will wake up, and you already like them. This actually happens. It’s too late to turn back — you’ve fallen.
And all you want to see is them. And all you want to be with is them.
Every cell in your body will long for them.
You will start to wonder why nothing is going on. Then you will realize that you only saw what you wanted to see, you only heard what you wanted to hear, and these things fueled your feelings. But you will realize, it will just be right in front of your eyes, that it is a cul-de-sac. Yes, it is. You wake up, this time, to face the truth. And it will hurt like hell.
Because, how can you end something when it hasn’t even started?
WHAT IS HAPPENING?!? You will lose sense of everything: work, school, people. You start doing pitiful acts of despair. Like writing an open letter about him so they’ll know everything you’re feeling and hope they’d care. And since you’re never out of these lame ideas, why not write them an actual letter and read it to them IN PERSON?
Your insides will turn into jelly.
You will feel like you’re the most stupid and gullible person in this world.
You will measure yourself and justify that maybe you’re not good enough for them.
You will cry in public places, like your office desk, the bus, or in the steps of your office building.
You start using your Twitter again as an emotional junkshop and stop caring if you lose followers or not.
You don’t want to get out of bed anymore.
And the people who care about you will start telling you to think of yourself already.
The Jenga Tower
You decide the pain’s not worth it. That no one deserves unrequited love. So, you build a wall, like building a tower of Jenga: block by block, one by one, day by day. You gather yourself back again. You’re better than this. Never let it fall. Carefully. Slowly.
There will be hard days. There will be more difficult nights. And probably because you go deep into the recesses of the Internet every day and bookmark articles on premature love, this might happen. So, they will cross your mind. You will bring them back in dreams and déjà vus. You will text them, or email them, send “I miss you”s that will never be replied to. You will write about them. Again. You will relapse.
So, you will try to stay away. As far as possible, as long as possible. Or maybe you will decide to cut any links to your social network because it would give you the delusion to think that maybe, when he’s out of your news feeds, they will be also out of your life, right?
And there will be days when you just can’t literally see their face because you’re sad and you’re mad and you’re just so fucked up inside all at the same time. There will be times when you will just cry and want to french kiss that bottle of vodka again because you learn about someone new. And that no matter how much you want it, you can never make them happy. It’s crazy.
Then, the worst is over. There is acceptance, at last. You will understand that all of your questions will not be answered, and that’s OK. There will be no pretensions anymore, no haywire feelings. Just calmness. You start liking other things. You start liking other people. You will look back at everything, you will remember, but it will not overwhelm you anymore.