To The Love That Will Never Happen

You are my favorite character, you are my constant dream, you are my best-loved face, you are my inspiration, you are my love, but you are not real.

You are a large figment of my imagination, you are the icing I imagined on a cake I thought was ‘just fine’, you are the strawberry I sweetened with my own sugar of fantasy when it felt sour, and you are the pillow that could never hug me back so I wrapped my own arms around me and believed it did.

When you flirted, I believed that it was an expression of an underlying affection. When you asked me out, I trusted your intentions to know me better. When you spoke about yourself, I took every thing you said at face value. When you said you loved me, I was convinced that you did. We came to the shore and I am ready to dive deep into this sea, but you are not ready to let go of what you have on the ground. Tell me, please, what were you thinking until we walked here?

It didn’t hurt so much to let you in, but not be let in. It didn’t hurt so much when my efforts were met with little reciprocation. It didn’t hurt so much to know that I was way deeper in this than you were. What hurt the most is that you mocked it.

You say you had kept all my letters and memories safe with you. What’s the point when you don’t remember anything about me, and all these years I thought you never got the last letter because you didn’t even care to write an e-mail back to me? You say you love talking to me. What’s the point if in the end you say that it’s too much of an effort keeping in touch and you just do it because you don’t want me to get hurt? You say I am very close to you. Then why do I have to hear you tell me that I have no idea what you have been or are going through?

I think of the times when we texted into the night and though we couldn’t hear each other, we instinctively knew the other person was laughing, I think of the times when we spoke about affection, love and intimacy and though we couldn’t touch each other, we could feel the warmth rushing to each other’s face. But then I’m reminded of what came next, the grin disappears and I can feel my face grow pale.

I know I will think of the times when we planned to meet, and smile about how excited I was. I know I will think about your honesty and our frank conversations, and my arms will open up to hug you. I know I will see a dream of you, and wake up searching for your name on my phone. I know some songs will bring flashes of you, and for a few moments I will think of nothing but you. I know if  ever I hear your name, my heart will start to beat a little bit faster. I know that there will be days when I will suddenly recollect something about you and I will lurch forward as if I could run to you.  But I hope that at all these times I also remember the pain I am going through. I hope I remember your indifference and all my tears.

I can keep thinking of how things could have been different, and how I still want to know you. I can think of where I went wrong and where you did. I can turn my head around to think that maybe trying a little more would take us where we wanted to go. But nothing will come out of it, because this was never the love I imagined it to be. You wanted my love, you wanted my body, you wanted my time, you just did not want me. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

featured image – Danielle Moler

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