Unrequited Love

"O heavy lightness! serious vanity! Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms! Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!" --Romeo and Juliet

Unrequited love is as terrible as love, but it doesn’t have any beauty to it. It is the most terrible out come of love; it takes all the dark and gritty emotions that love gives and puts it into a package.
There are three types of emotion you feel from unrequited love.

Anger: Pure, red hatred. You hate everything that has to do with the situation. You hate her for refusing the love, you hate yourself for giving it and you hate the world for not giving it to you. But most of all, you hate the fact that you hate everything so much (especially her!) You want to scream and shout and break things. Good luck to any person who starts a fight with somebody in the anger stage of unrequited love because you will walk away with less then you came with.

Sorrow: Self-pity, sadness and depression. The world can’t get any more grey. A dark filter is almost laid upon your eyes. Everything you see reminds you of her, the music you hear, the places you go, everything brings back memories and questions. How can she not love me? Doesn’t she feel what I feel? Doesn’t she CARE how much of myself she took?

Longing: It’s like a thirst you know you can never ever quench. You look at her, and you want her in your arms but it can never be. The fact that you KNOW it hurts the most. You want to moan, groan and it kills you slowly, like dying in the desert without water. You have hallucinations of scenarios where she comes back spouting “What was I thinking! I didn’t mean what I said! I love you!” It’s an unescapable feverish dream world that slowly saps you of everything.


You think all the time. Think about what she feels. Nonchalant? Guilty? Relived? From there you run scenarios in your head, over and over. You see her crying in her bed about what she’s done. You see her laughing with her friends about what you said. You see her with other guys, you already forgotten; a dream as lost as the ones you keep having. You see her lost, as you are.

You’re body functions on auto-pilot as people all around you give advice. “You’ll be fine”, “she’ll be fine”, “it’ll all be fine” Your body absorbs it all like a tissue in a lake. You get smothered in them, asphyxiated. You get sick to your stomach of hearing them, you get sick of people. But you can’t be alone, you need people as well. It’s a crazy time, and it hurts like hell.

You live life like you’re a semitone out of society. Just out of sight, just not there. It flows around you like a rock in rapids, while you stop. You don’t think clearly, you don’t even know what you’re thinking about.

You don’t want to see her, but you need to talk to her. You never want to touch her again, but you want her in your arms. You hate her for no reason, but you love her still. She’s a splinter in you’re mind again, but it’ll never leave you. You have to learn to work around it.

You have to grow to fit the splinter, put a damper pedal on the pain and pluck yourself back into society. It’s hard, but it has to be done.

And it always is.