April 4, 2014
And several late nights where the date didn’t matter. Just my thoughts.
It took me two weeks to fall in love with you. I fell hard, I fell fast. I was more than ecstatic, I was on cloud nine. I had never walked with as much confidence and grace as those few weeks in January. I patiently waited for the day the ‘L’ word crept into our vocabulary. But the scary thing is I’m not excited anymore. I don’t cling to every word you say in hopes that maybe those three words might slip out without me knowing. When we part ways my first thought after leaving isn’t I’ll see you soon but he didn’t say it today. You use to sing me sweet love songs when we drove around, now all I hear are songs that degrade women. Before my nightmares caught up with me I would dream about the day you would say you loved me; a magical moment that every girl wants but only I would receive. I could picture it a thousand different ways. Each one more beautiful than the last. I could only imagine how the “hopeless romantic” would open his heart to me. How he would reveal the part of himself he kept so carefully hidden from everyone else. In casual conversation you once told me that you had never before said you loved another girl. I didn’t believe you then; how could someone live so long and never feel compelled to tell someone that they love them. Love surrounds us all it is everywhere we go and in every thought in our mind; and this kind of love is too beautiful not to be shared. I believe your words now, I see their truth.
The disney princess inside of me is gone, replaced with something cold. Something I can’t shake off, something I can’t push past. My nightmares have slowly returned, and my demons are finding ways into my thoughts. It’s hard to picture myself getting butterflies from the words anymore. I have overcome the knots in my stomach that use to slip in unexpectedly when thinking about saying the words aloud, and I pray everyday that my expression doesn’t show just how mentally exhausted I am after finally hearing the words I have worked so desperately for, whenever that might be. Wishing and dreaming for an “I love you” doesn’t excite me. All the hype has disappeared from my spirit. Now i’m just waiting. Waiting for what you might ask? Conformation that I might have been somewhat sane when I overcame my fears and said I loved you what feels like an eternity ago. That I cared for you more than any other combination of words could describe. Confidence that the wait for your response was worth all the second guessing, all the late night thoughts and hopeless embarrassment. Hope that maybe this endless road of unrequited love is worth the drive.
I’m scared my first reaction won’t be “I love you too” but more of an “Are you sure?”. You say you need time to find your own reassurance. And in my own thoughts I can’t help but wonder why you pushed back so many months ago. What side of you decided that what we have wasn’t worth taking a risk? What side of me did you see and disagree with? My thoughts revolve around what I need to do to prove to you that it’s okay to love me. I wish I could somehow show you I won’t be easy to love, but it will be worth it. You worked so desperately to get me to push past the darkness and see the light inside of myself, in others, and in you; now it’s my time to do the heavy lifting. I need reassurance that my emotions weren’t just a dream lived in the past or simply a daydream about a boy that was trying to impress me but a future we can create together; one with love on our side.
I have been fighting a war inside myself to maintain control over this situation. I can’t talk about it with anyone; I can only confide in my keys. Love is something to be excited about, and I was for the longest time. The amount of courage it took to place those three words at the end of your letter almost killed me. But I did it because I was confident you felt the same way. You just needed a little extra push to say them out loud. Then you slowly walked out after reading it. Your head hung low and I knew the moment we made eye contact I had messed up. You didn’t and you couldn’t. Instantly my heart broke, I had watched myself open up to someone, become someone I was proud of, and fall in love with someone who didn’t feel the same way. I wanted to leave then, but I thought to myself love is a choice and I choose to love you. Although you have not made the same choice. I can’t even begin to describe the feelings I have had the past few months. From hating myself to hating love all together. But maybe love will be what it should be again, maybe someday soon I will love with the same passion and desire I once did instead of putting myself through a living hell trying to find a way through this endless maze.
I can’t possibly pressure you into saying what I want to hear, I have done that enough already. As much as I long and crave for the words to be said, I want there to be a truth behind them. A deeper meaning, a greater understanding. I want this to be it. The love everyone reads about; the love everyone dreams about. This should be it, and if it take all of my strength to reach the top, I will still be climbing and fighting my way to you. For now I’ll wait.
-Someone who is in love, but not loved-