UNREQUITED

I always wanted it to be you and maybe I still do.

I still can't tell, was it friendship, was it love, was it both or was it none? The accusations, the whispers, the holding hands and the silent stares. The change of plans for an extra hour; the shitty pasta. The dog snored; I couldn't hang up the phone.

Everyone knew but you.

False hope fed into my delusions. When someone said this was forever, you laughed because we'd never have lasted but god, I wished that wasn't true. I needed you to choose me. Why wasn't I everything you could have ever wanted?

My world orbited you.

I didn't want to let you go, wasn't this just friendship?

I still wonder whether you knew as I pretended not to care. I ignored the stab in my heart at the 5 am drives; the bile in my throat in that room, at the questions. I couldn't bear to hear you talk about him; a bitter pill I wished I could ignore. I hid my pain behind distant eyes. The hint of relief when you told me the news. It was easier to hate him than accept the truth, it was easier to blame him as the reason why I couldn't have you.

So many times I cried because I thought you didn't care; the times I cried because he was there. All of this sadness shifted to anger. My attacks; misdirected pain hiding the truth, that I was simply in love with you.

The fears in my head swirl around and around. Are we still friends or am I too much? Have I burned bridges, set everything ablaze, sobbed too loudly, or pushed you further away? You didn't miss me, or perhaps you didn't care. Gods aren't real, no one answered my prayers.

I held on tight and refused to change, maybe things could stay the same. But you were gone, leaving me here, destined for a life waiting to disappear.

I'm a cynic and I hate love because being your friend was not enough. All I wanted was to hold your hand, share secrets, dream and understand. Unanswered emails and endless tears. No I miss yous or wish you were heres. One less hug; engulfed with fears.

All the things I'll never know and all the questions left alone. I always knew it was too good to be true. I would've begged you to stay but I couldn't risk losing you.

We are not meant to be, it isn't written in the stars. One day I will think of home and it won't be your arms.

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So... I wrote a poem, I think? I've never written poetry before, but while I was trying to write about these ideas they magically transformed into a more poetic style of story-telling. It was the only way I could get these thoughts and ideas out tangibly.

It's really hard to try new things and step out of your comfort zone. Creating this blog and beginning to share it with people was scary. It's terrifying opening yourself up to judgment about things in general, let alone something you care deeply about.

I'm not confident that I'm a good writer. It's hard to know whether I'm too self-critical or just accurate. This piece of writing is extra scary, it's about a personal situation and period of time/times?? in my life that I don't like to think about (and constantly think about). And the thing is, this might not be good. But writing helps me process things, make sense of the past, and understand what I'm thinking and how I feel.

I'm opening myself up to judgment, your judgment. That has always been one of my biggest fears. I care too much about the opinions others have of me. I hate failure, I hate looking stupid, and I hate embarrassing myself. I think posting this is the next step to overcoming my internalisation of other people's opinions of me. I am growing tired of being embarrassed and letting other people's opinions dictate how I feel about something.

This piece of writing is freeing for me. So fuck it.

With that being said, let's discuss. In my humble opinion (and this is definitely not a universal opinion/experience), the line between platonic and romantic love is very blurred. I am someone who has a lot of love to give, and I deeply treasure my friendships. They are everything to me. In certain circumstances, I have found it difficult to distinguish my feelings because, to me, romantic love is deeply intertwined with friendship. Again, this may not be true for everyone, but in my experience, this is the case. I have talked to many people about this, some disagree, and some feel the same.

I personally believe that we view the world around us through too many binaries. Man or woman, rich or poor, privileged or oppressed, happy or sad, true or false and even life or death. It's either love or friendship, but we often ignore the fact that feelings aren't black or white, our emotions, our ability and our capacity to love are not easily labelled or lumped into boxes. I think it's beautiful to think of love expansively, to adore people so much that you can't distinguish the form of love you have for them. I guess all that really matters is the love itself. That's how I've come to think about it at least.

Thank you for reading,

(and, hopefully not judging ;))