"To burn with desire and be quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves. Because what’s worse than knowing you want something, besides knowing you can never have it?" All those things my favorite writers have said keeps on playing in my head for hours now because of a message. A simple... no, a very aching message I have received at 5:00 this morning.
For me, he was another episode. Another page to be flipped in this colorful book. I just didn't know how much impact I made upon him. How much memories did I bring and how much hurt did I inflict. That, I didn't know. Only until this morning when he told me about everything and I was shattered. Shattered because I know I can't reciprocate it. That his love, no matter how deep it is, will forever be his. Unreturned.
A note... a long note he stored on his phone for several months now, updated everyday, like a diary... revealed, clearly laid before me. And what should I do? "It's a lonely day again. It's been a week. Sigh..." he wrote. I am here so happy with my life while someone in another part of this world is "hopelessly trying to forget feelings for someone but fails to do so."
I wonder how it feels to not be loved in return. Once, I experienced it but hey, that was a very long time ago, when my definition of love was shallow and my notions of relationships were half-baked and ignorant. I remember something from Sigmund Freud. He mentioned something about the nature of human of pursuing someone who doesn't like them in return. Why can't it be equal? Why can't everything be fair for someone who gives and someone who receives? Because, if you could love someone, and keep loving them, without being loved back . . . then that love had to be real. It hurt too much to be anything else.
I had discovered that there was something more painful than falling in love with someone who hasn't fallen for you; It's ignoring the person who TRULY loves you because you don't feel the same...hurting that person - hurting him and not being able to do anything about it.
For me, he was another episode. Another page to be flipped in this colorful book. I just didn't know how much impact I made upon him. How much memories did I bring and how much hurt did I inflict. That, I didn't know. Only until this morning when he told me about everything and I was shattered. Shattered because I know I can't reciprocate it. That his love, no matter how deep it is, will forever be his. Unreturned.
A note... a long note he stored on his phone for several months now, updated everyday, like a diary... revealed, clearly laid before me. And what should I do? "It's a lonely day again. It's been a week. Sigh..." he wrote. I am here so happy with my life while someone in another part of this world is "hopelessly trying to forget feelings for someone but fails to do so."
I wonder how it feels to not be loved in return. Once, I experienced it but hey, that was a very long time ago, when my definition of love was shallow and my notions of relationships were half-baked and ignorant. I remember something from Sigmund Freud. He mentioned something about the nature of human of pursuing someone who doesn't like them in return. Why can't it be equal? Why can't everything be fair for someone who gives and someone who receives? Because, if you could love someone, and keep loving them, without being loved back . . . then that love had to be real. It hurt too much to be anything else.
I had discovered that there was something more painful than falling in love with someone who hasn't fallen for you; It's ignoring the person who TRULY loves you because you don't feel the same...hurting that person - hurting him and not being able to do anything about it.
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