Unspoken Words, Unrequited Love

You tell yourself that you saw it coming, and yet you’re not spared by the numbing pain you feel when your fear becomes reality. As if splashed by ice cold water, your brain freezes for a second. When exactly did it happen? Was it because she has chinky eyes? Or was it because she loves cats? You ask yourself a thousand questions; seek answers you’d rather not hear. You’re dying to know, but afraid to find out.

And then you try to reminisce the moments you shared together, playing them at the back of your mind like Facebook’s lookback video. Just how long you’ve been in love with him, you can’t remember. The only thing you’re sure of is that it felt strong enough to last a lifetime; the kind of love that constantly pushes you to become better so as to be worthy of him; one that makes you want to prepare porridge when he’s down with fever, even if you don’t cook; the love that keeps you from dozing off on a classic black and white film he wanted you to see; and one you’d be willing to trade a year of your life, just to take away a second of his pain. But all your feelings must now be a thing of the past, safely tucked away in the deepest part of a cold abyss that is your heart.

You say “I’m happy you’re happy”. But truth be told, you’re lying. You can fake your smile but you can’t fake your feelings. Still, with sincerity and affection, you wish him happiness. And you hope, could only hope that she would love him more than you do. Believe in him when nobody else does. Support him unconditionally in his dreams and endeavors. Or scold him badly if he ever tries smoking or does something equally foolish. And remind him of his worth should he lose faith in himself. After all is said and done, you let go of your one hundred years of unrequited love, letting it fly like a white balloon in the night sky, slowly fading in the distance until forever lost in a sea of stars.

They say you only fall out of love if you’ve fallen for someone else. But hopeless romantic as you are, you won’t allow yourself to succumb to love on the rebound. So you look for diversions instead. Soon you find that it doesn’t make things any better. For what you feel is far from the pain you get from an intense workout, which just goes away after a few days of Advil and Salonpas.

You realize that in the end we were all just humans, drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.

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