The only thing I truly dreaded, was the the reality that she was someone else’s.
I think I avoided that reality for so long because I ….because….because I fell in love with her. And I didn’t want my heart to shatter into a billion pieces.
And that’s just what happened. Today, by accident, or maybe it was fate, or by some design, I found it. Seeing her there, next to him, happy, in that picture….the ‘family unit’. My heart broke. Broke into so many pieces.
Every morning I’ve tried to prepare for it, imagining how I might find out. What I might find out.
Seven years of helplessly, day by day, falling madly, totally, head over heels in love with her. Trying to learn whatever I could about her. And to find out in a matter of seconds. To see them, together, with the family, in a couples pose. It hurts more than words…
And in that instant, my world ended. It’s not funny. It’s not a dumb little crush. It’s cold, and cruel to make fun of someone who feels hurt because they dared to like someone. Had the courage to like someone, and to express it. I am a writer, not a talker. This is how I communicate. Some of us are painfully shy and self conscious and simply can’t find any other way.
My heart is broken.
I know you never cared who I was or that I existed. But I loved you. I dreamed of you, and I loved you. But you knew. Because your friends knew, and because whenever I tried to express how I felt, or find ways to tell you, or was hurt if I thought you simply didn’t care, you made fun, or teased, tried to get me not to like you, so I’d go away. And not be a bother to you.
Well, even though it took me awhile to catch on, you can see that I finally found what you wanted me to see. Your…family. So I get it now.
Well I’m sorry. I’m sorry I forced you to that. That makes me feel sick inside, and I’m sorry.
So no more dreams. No more Miamis. No more Eleventh Hour Don Quixote quests. I got the message.
The most painful, horrible thing is, I will never ever be able to forget your face. You’ll be blissfully happy in your good and wonderful life and I’ll be miserable and stuck in love with you forever.
Because I am not a talker.
Thinking about all of the chances I had to say something to you. Just once. Just a minute or two with you. I would have been thrilled.
But I am not a talker.
So it’s a horrible, horrible fate. 💔 😢😢😢
And I’m sorry it was abrupt, and I’m sorry to take back those memories, but I don’t want to share them with anyone else. Not your marketing friend, or your tennis friends, or your modeling friends, or clients or whoever. An, not even your new family. They were for you. Not all of the people you were or are influencing. Especially if that’s all they meant to you.
So goodbye. And good luck.
Even though you don’t understand how I feel about you, that’s ok. Maybe someday, when you’re old and grey, you will.
I hope you have a wonderful, wonderful life.