Unrequited Love.

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I’ve been thinking about love a lot lately (as I do, all the time) and I started to think, what do you do when the person you want, doesn’t want you back? If you’re an extremely emotional person like I am, this experience is enough to send you into full depression mode. I’m talking about crying all night, binging on ice cream and watching Lifetime movies while I wallow in my pain. Okay, maybe that’s a bit much but you get the idea. Unrequited love is something that has the possibility to ruin even the strongest of women.

You fit together so perfectly and everyone around you can see it; everyone but them. It doesn’t make sense to you because everything seems to align for the two of you and there seems to be no plausible reason for you not to be together. They make you laugh. Really laugh. Not the kind of laughter that’s forced just because you like them. You genuinely laugh because you think they’re funny. Your hand fits firmly into theirs and your body melts into their chest when you hug them. You start to wonder if God had you in mind when He was forming them in their mother’s womb. They look into your eyes as if they were the only pair of eyes in the room… in the world. You tell them how you pray for them at night but you wonder if they know that you really pray FOR them at night.

You have this rosy picture in your mind of how great life would be if the two of you were together and it all comes crashing down when they tell you that they’re interested in someone…someone who is not you.

*cue sad violin solo*

What do you do now?

The younger more immature me would have told you to pack your bags and move out of the country because your life is over. I’ve matured since then (thank goodness).

I could tell you to not let it affect you too much and that you should do your best to forget about that person but the truth is it’s never that easy. It’s never easy to move on from rejection when it’s someone you really cared about. This person has been the object of your affection and is now crushing your poor, little heart.

I’m far from an expert when it comes to love and matters of the heart but I’ve had my share of love lost and heartbreak.

So how did I get over it?

I had to come to the realization that not everyone you like, love or want is going to like, love or want you back. That’s just life. It sounds harsh but that’s just how it is.

When dealing with a broken heart, we tend to look at life through different lenses. Everything seems definite.

“I’ll never get over them!”

“I’ll never be able to move on!”

“My life is over!”

As hard as it may be, you have to pull yourself out of this funk and realize that life goes on! Just think about it, before you met this person, you were living life just fine. So, why can’t life go back to being ‘just fine’ or better?

Love is something that’s meant to be shared. If it’s one sided, it’s probably not meant to be.

If you find yourself continuously going the extra mile for this person with no reciprocal effort or feeling over exerted, trying to please them, chances are this person isn’t the one for you.

Do you catch my drift yet?

When feelings are placed on the spectrum, it should not be lopsided. Love, like or wanting, should be mutual.

I know this is super cliche but you really do deserve better!

You deserve someone who will see you and see a future. You deserve a love that adds color to your life. You deserve someone who’s as crazy about you as you are about them.

The next time you find yourself pining over someone who doesn’t want you, take a step back and remind yourself that this person isn’t a horrible person! Your life isn’t over and it’s okay.

It may not seem like it in the midst of this flurry of emotions but you will move on from this and will realize just how much of an awesome person you are.

Keep kicking, lovers!

 

 

His Eyes.

His eyes were a poem.
I still believe in them.
I once told him that he held sunsets and happiness in his smile.
He looked at me like I only he could and said, “If I hold sunsets, you must be the creator of the sunrise.”
God must’ve kissed his smile and completed the masterpiece with those eyes.
His eyes were a poem.

Reversal.

Sometimes I wish I could switch roles with you.

I’d tell you how much I’m into you and how I can totally see myself with you.

I’d say that I want to take things slow and start out as friends but that I’m open to the possibility of us being together.

I’d call you “baby” and kiss you and cuddle with you at night.

I’d make you feel special. Out of all the guys in our circle of friends, I’d single you out. I’d expect you to feed me when I’m hungry, come running when I call and stroke my ego when I need it.

When you start to get jealous of the attention I give to other guys, I’d reassure you that you have nothing to worry about.

When you start to get emotional over the fact that I’m not acting like I really want you, I’d remind you that “I’m not really trying to be in a relationship right now” and that “you knew where I stood when it came to relationships”.

About a month or so later, I’d realize that I, in fact, do want to be in a relationship.

When you get your hope up, I’d remind you that you and I are just friends.

Yes, I want to be in a relationship…but not with you.

Even though I led you on, I never intended to be anything more than your friend.

I just need you around when it’s convenient for me.

I need you to still want me even though I don’t want you.

I want you to be okay with this.

I Don’t Mind.

I wouldn’t feel so bad about the tears that flow from my eyes if I knew they’d go on to become waterfalls.

I wouldn’t miss them as much as I did the moment they rolled down my cheeks if I knew that someday, they would sustain the life of someone who feels the way I feel right now.

I wouldn’t regret the heartache I endured if I knew that somehow my sad song would play in the ears of someone who was at their breaking point.

I wouldn’t regret it if I knew they’d hear the story I left behind; written in heart ache and signed with bleeding fingers.

The breaths I struggle to take at night wouldn’t bother me so much if I knew that someone found me breathtaking.

If I knew that the lining of their lungs were painted with images of me.

Graffiti-ed walls that tell a story that words fail to articulate.

That wouldn’t bother me.

I wouldn’t mind the absence of the stars in my sky if I knew they were busy lighting up your world.

If I knew that the moon paused it’s smile for me just to give you a glance, I wouldn’t me mad.

I just want you to be happy

Even if that means I have to go without.

I don’t mind. 

This Is How You Lose Me: A How-To Guide.

Forget.

Forget the curve of my smile and the reasons I smile in the first place. Don’t remember the little things like how I have to rub my feet together to fall asleep or how I make that silly face whenever I’m deep in thought. Forget the echo of my laughter and the depth in my eyes. Try not to remember the things that hurt me; the things that make me cry. Try not to remember the things that keep me up at night and the moments that I consider magical. It’s not like any of these things are THAT important to me.

Act.

Act as though you don’t really like me when we’re out in public. Don’t hold my hand, don’t call me baby and don’t stare longingly into my eyes like you did the night before. When I try to kiss you in public, act like you’re repulsed. Don’t let me. Embarrass me. Be the loving, patient, caring lover that you are behind closed doors but when our friends come around, act as if I’m ‘just a friend”. Don’t make me feel special. It will only make me like you and we don’t want that, right? Make me feel replaceable. All the attention you used to show me, start showing it to someone else. Make her feel special even when I’m around. And when I get jealous, tell me I’m overreacting.

Stop.

Stop telling me how important I really am to you. Stop letting me believe that you actually care for me. Don’t waste your time telling me I’m beautiful. When I take my time to look nice, don’t acknowledge my efforts. Stop reminding me how much you really like me. I should know that by now, right? Stop loving my laugh and hating to see me upset. The love and appreciation you used to show me in the beginning of our friendship, stop showing it. Stop trusting me and stop valuing my opinion…what do I know, anyways?

Be.

Be THAT guy. The guy who can’t show emotions. The guy who would accept death before he admits that he’s falling for me. Play hard to get. Play games. Play with my emotions. Be inconsiderate. Be a jerk. Be all the things you know I don’t like. Be a completely different person from the sweet man I met that one night you stole my attention. Be cruel. Be absent. Be very and I repeat, be VERY flirtatious with that girl you know I don’t like. To make things easier, just be everything I’ve told you I hate.

Take.

Take me for granted. Take me for a fool. Take away my trust. Take away the reasons I smile. Take advantage of my sweet nature. Take advantage of my kindness. Take my heart and toss it around. I know you said you would never hurt me but take that back! You take it back now! Go back on that promise and do your best to break it. Take all the time you want! I mean, it’s not like I want to know where this thing is headed. It’s not like I’m getting older and want to some day have a commitment from you.

So you see, it’s pretty easy to lose me. But if by chance, you want to keep me, read this backwards and it’ll be the story of a man who rescued a woman who was ready to give up and ended up keeping her forever.

Dear Music.

I was never a big fan of Music

Until I was taken captive by the soulful Music which was for my soul what music is to lyrics

It’s compliment.

And with calm impliments of love I surrendered.

This melody which I previously refused has been re-fused into my system,

The beat.

The rhytmatic regiments of a rhytm addicted specimen that I hardly understood.

At times it sounded so good and it felt even better.

It was like a spiritual love letter.

Music.

To some just words and sounds

But when your on battle grounds it means so much more.

I adore the inspiration that led me to the sound.

For once my ears (and heart) were lost but now I’m inspirationally found.

 

Thank you Music

 

XOXO,

 

Rose.

Smile.

Last night we talked and after our goodbyes I caught myself writing you poetry in the form of a smile

I put pen to paper to beautifully express how much you mean to me and how my heart totally screws up my inner melody because it skips beat after beat when you are near

I was so ready to write this beautiful piece but as my pen hit the sheet, my mind wouldn’t cooperate

I tried to arrange my words in a way that would perfectly describe how you make me feel but I came up blank

Because what I came to realize is that no word in the english language comes close to describing this feeling

Trust me, I read the dictionary from beginning to end…

Well not really cause I kind of just skimmed through it and stopped on “e” but somewhere between “euphoria” and “excited” I made my exit because such a word doesn’t exist

But I’m still smiling cause while words won’t suffice, I found an even better poem

One that was already written, especially for you

The smile across my face, priceless and worth more than any words could ever amount to, explains in full detail exactly what you mean to me

Exactly how you make me feel

So until Websters comes out with a new edition, I’ll continue reciting the same poem

To Every Guy I’ve Hurt Before.

If sorry could make things better, I’d say it a million times
But my words could never begin to heal the wounds I’ve inflicted on you
The wounds I poured emotional salt on to the point where they became untreatable
I’ve messed it up for the next girl
Leaving you with pain and questions that I cannot answer
I’ve lied to you, played you, took you for granted
I said things I didn’t mean and never told you what I really felt
I’m a monster and I know that I could never undo what has already been done
Tear stained eyes blur my vision as I write this because I now know how it really feels
I could blame my actions on past hurts and the last a**hole that broke my heart but the truth is, it was all me
I chose to play with your emotions
I chose to make “us” seem like more than we really were
I chose to put your feelings on the back burner while I selfishly took care of me
If sorry could make things better, I’d say it a million times
But my words could never begin to heal to wounds I’ve inflicted on you
You were good to me
I know this
You cared, you shared, you were there when I was at my lowest
You loved me in spite of Rose
You loved when I didn’t love myself
You loved me when I made it hard to love me
You loved me
And I could write you a million poems that beautifully describe how apologetic I am but I know that will never undo the done deed
But I’ll write you this piece to let you know that I acknowledge my wrong doings
And if you never speak to me again, I’ll understand
If you never speak to me again, I won’t be mad
Because the pain of knowing I hurt you feels like…it feels like…there’s no metaphor for it
It’s just painful
If sorry could make things better, I’d say it a million times
But my words could never begin to heal the wounds I’ve inflicted on you
But if sorry is a start to a long road of forgiveness
I’ll gladly say it 999,999 more times

Closure.

Dear Preston,

A while ago, you asked me about what kept me going. You wanted to know what motivated me to do it. I didn’t have an answer then because at the time, I didn’t have anything. I was barely hanging on. Going through the days wearing interchangeable masks that hid what I was really feeling. For a while I was just passing through life without really experiencing the things that were going on around me.

Then you came into my world.

You painted over my gray skies and added a drop of color to my colorless days. I needed you.
You brought out things in me that I didn’t even know I possessed. You made me aware of the stars my mind housed. Constellations coexisted with butterflies as I tried to make sense of the new feelings I felt.

“You can do it. You know you can. I know you can.”
I did.
I never got the chance to tell you but you were my reason. The reason I didn’t give up on those nights when pills seemed more desirable than writing. When life became too much to bear, you were my calm.
I know it’s too late now cause you’re gone but I hope this letter is able to serve its purpose and give me some kind of peace.
Peace.

“Ever thine.
Ever mine.
Ever ours.”

-Rose

Waiting.

Sometimes I wonder why I stick around.
Waiting around for men who don’t know what they want and aren’t in a rush to find out.
Men who don’t hold me at night and mean the words they whisper in my ear.
Men who don’t recognize the fireball that engulfs me when they don’t do what they promised they would.
I am not a delicate poem you recite in a coffee shop awaiting approving snaps.
I am spoken word. Yelled from the rooftop for the whole world to hear.
YOU WILL HEAR ME!
You can only hide me behind closed doors for so long.
Hold your hand over my mouth and try to silence my cries for affection for so long.
I am a bird waiting to soar into the endless sky.
I can’t be lied to for too long.
It won’t be too long before I start feel neglected.
If you can’t love me the way I deserve to be loved then baby, this ship is going to sink.
Or maybe I’ll just throw you overboard.
Or jump ship before I have to clean up the mistakes of another man. Again.
It is not my responsibility to teach you how to love me.
To teach you how to be a man.
I will not be held accountable for your short comings.
I will not be blamed for your misguided aggression.
Trying to be a player.
Masking your foolishness with excuses like “I’m not trying to be locked down” and “You knew what you were getting into”.
I refuse to be the one who has to hold your hand and walk you through life.
That is not my job.
Sometimes I wonder why I stick around.
I wonder why I stick around waiting for a man to change.
Why do I wait for a train that left the station years ago?
I try to heal my wounds by telling myself that I tried my hardest but I shouldn’t have to try so hard.
I shouldn’t have to force this thing.
This thing you call companionship.
I won’t be sticking around any longer.
Either you give me what I deserve or you’ll be the one sticking around.
Waiting for a woman who has had enough of your crap.
Waiting for a woman who isn’t turning back.