Let me be selfish for once.
From the moment we started talking, I knew I’d fall for you. I knew it was a risk, an adventure I was willing to take. You amazed me in so many ways: from how down-to-earth you were, to how kind and unselfish you were, to how much you cared for me when times were rough. I couldn’t help it, I fell in love with you. And you saw it before I could even tell you. You knew I fell for you, you knew I had feelings for you, you knew that I didn’t see you as “just a friend.”
You said you loved me back, not just as a friend, but in that way too. You said you had feelings for me, you said I made you feel things you couldn’t understand, you said I confused you. And yet, instead of feeling radiant and ecstatic, my heart sank.
Because you were taken.
I did not want to be the third person in a couple. I did not want to get in between you two. I gave you space and I told myself to kill my feelings for you. I wanted to go back to seeing you as a friend; I loved you, but I didn’t want an “us.”
I wanted to suppress my feelings for you, but you didn’t allow me to. You kept telling me you love me, you kept making me get my hopes up. I was foolish to think that you’d be mine one day, stupid of me to wait for you, and selfish of me to pretend that you’d break up with your boyfriend soon. I felt very sinful, very rotten, very cruel. You secretly had feelings for me as you continued to date your boyfriend, and it made me feel like absolute shit.
So I decided to end the small thing we had. I told you that we couldn’t be friends until both our feelings died. I told you it would be impossible for us to continue talking unless we stopped viewing each other in romantic lenses. I wanted space, I wanted to let go of you, I wanted to move on — because I did not want to ruin a relationship.
Then you asked me to stay. You asked me to stay friends, you said that we could make this work out. You told me you love me. You said you loved me, but you didn’t know how to. You said you loved me, but the circumstances prevented us from obtaining what we both wanted — each other. You said you’ve never felt this way about someone, not even your boyfriend. You said you wanted to make me happy, that you wanted us to be happy together.
But you didn’t do anything about it.
How can you expect me to love you knowing it’s not right? How can you expect me to love you that way when you’re taken by somebody else? How can you expect me to talk to you without a feeling of guilt, without asking myself, “How would I feel if I were the boyfriend?” How do you expect us to be friends, when we know we both have an illicit love for each other. You said that it “should’ve been us,” but how could that happen if you don’t do anything about it?
You have the power, you have control over what happens between us. I’m just here, trying to be unselfish, trying my best not to reciprocate your love for me because someone else loves you. I’m here, left to feel guilty every time you say “I love you” to me, every time you try to hold my hand, every time you hug me. I’m here, trying my best not to get in between you two because I want both of you to be happy. I care for you, and I don’t want to ruin what you have. And so, I hurt myself in the process of loving and caring for you.
Because you keep saying you love me, yet you do nothing about it.