I’ve been living in a dream world. A world where everything I ever wanted came true. He kissed me, held my hand, carefully brushed the hair from my face as he smiled at me and looked into my eyes…all of this is real. Yet despite it actually happening, it’s only real to me.
To him this is a passing moment, something he can forget about in the cold light of day. For me this is what I’ve been anticipating, the moment he finally confessed that he’s been waiting for me all along. I’m not making this up in my head, this isn’t a fantasy, these are words he actually said to me. Words that I have clearly taken to heart and something he said just to make me more accessible to him.
But you know, despite everything he has said, he hasn’t been waiting for me all along. He doesn’t care about me. Definitely not in the same way I care about him. The way he speaks, the things he says, the passion he shows when he talks about the things and people he loves, the way he so casually walks next to me as my heart races painfully in my chest. And he has no idea. Because I haven’t told him. And I never will.
You cannot tell someone that you love them, you are infatuated by them and addicted to their presence. You cannot tell someone that you wish you could spend all of your time with them. You cannot tell someone that they are everything you’ve ever been looking for and nothing else can compare to them. Because they would think you are crazy. The world would think you’re crazy. This isn’t Disney, it’s not correct to fall in love with people in this way.
There’s the horrible part of you that believes he can do better, you begin to make yourself believe that you are worthless and maybe no one will ever love you. He’s the only one for you and if you can’t have him then no one will want you.
You become convinced that he doesn’t even like you, you read into every little detail and overthink every moment you spend with him. It becomes difficult to meet with him in fear that your feelings are showing. You become scared of the depth of your own emotions but the more you try to overcome these feelings, the more they manifest into the deepest and darkest parts of your mind becoming a monster preying on the weak.
You feel so overwhelmed and pressured by your own emotions that you begin wishing you could escape. But you can’t. You have to live with it, interweave it with everyday life and hope it doesn’t continue to take over.
This isn’t obsession. This isn’t madness. This is unrequited love of the severest and most tragic amount. And I cannot get over it, no matter how hard I try.