Wise lovers say that the hardest thing to do is watch the person that you love, love somebody else. For me, it hurt the most not to be loved in return. My heart’s most difficult endurance has been to love someone entirely, fully, and completely, only to be denied. The butterflies that circled in my stomach, the blushing smile, the glow on my face were instilled by one person for the longest time. He is numb to me, cold at times, as if trying to push me away. And this is what hurts: the pain of not being loved back, the emptiness of not feeling good enough, and the desperation to show him that I could make him happy. These tireless struggles of trying to make the boy that I love notice me and embrace me weather my heart as I come to admit that my fictional fairytale will never become a reality. The idea of him and I is seemingly impossible.

Years passed since we first met, and I, the hopeless romantic, still believed in fate. I had these ridiculous thoughts that he would see me one day and he would want nothing more than to reach out and grab my hand. Our first kiss at a young age locked me into this emotionally intense drama and every moment thereafter has had me spinning in this turbulent downward spiral of infatuation. For the times that he hurt me, left me, and used me, one would think that I would have walked away. However, I only fell that much harder. I was that crazy about him.

My feelings for him gradually grew into vulnerable instability. They grew until I was emotionally insane and it was no longer healthy. I began to compare myself to other girls – girls that got to be with him while I waited, slowly fading out of his mind. I questioned my qualities as a person, a worthy partner. I began to doubt if I was ever going to be loved by someone the way that I loved him, and I questioned my appearance – inside and out. I lost sight of who I was, what I wanted and most importantly, what I deserved. I began to weaken, I felt defeated and I did not know where to turn. For some fucked up reason loving him made sense to me.

Upon being broken, I sheltered my heart, my feelings. I repressed the will to love; I built a wall and vowed never to let anyone in again. I was frustrated and fragile – vulnerable to the burdens of my discouraged heart. Bitterness swept in and I was convinced that if I could not be with him then I did not want to be with anyone at all. I repeated in my head that I was just not good enough. To be honest, I continued to believe that we were meant to be together – that he would change.