Sunday, July 18, 2010

The Summer I Fell Out of Love

It’s taken me months to get through this in my head.

Months to regain some sense of sanity and control over my emotions towards this person that I’ve known all along wouldn’t take the risk and love me back.

It’s been a long, quiet journey. One I haven’t shared here one the page, my most sacred of places.  Nor have I even uttered a word of it to my closest friends.

It was silent misery, the tears on my pillow every night when I thought of him before drifting off to sleep.

All I wanted is to not love him or for him to let himself love me back.

And there were many a times when I thought I saw the latter happening. When he looked at me with eyes I’d never seen and lost his words mid-sentence, recovering only after looking away for a long moment.

It was the kind of love that I fell into on accident. Gradually the crushing became a little less cute and carefree. I found myself vying for his attention, his adoration.

And I got it. And, of course it left me wanting more.  All of his attention and adoration.

 And that’s what never came.

Then the anger set in, the bitterness.

His every word, even the ones I once thought were sweet and charming made my blood boil.

In my anger I began to wonder, is this what I want? To convince someone that I’m worth their love and affection. To tell them that I’m okay to love?

Of course not. So I took a step toward real love–which starts with me–and let the agony go.

As for him, he’s just a small part of a much bigger lesson.