It's a sad thing when all your purest intentions get drowned out in all the
noise of the world. Her name is...unimportant.
The name that once lit up my world with its splendor alone, the name that
used to gently caress my lips... no longer bears any real importance. My heart
has forbidden me from uttering it. The same heart that has robbed me of any
sense of care for grammar, spelling (to some extent) and criticism.
THIS IS SELF_EXPRESSION.
Contrary to what she may say or otherwise believe, I am not a
stalker. I am however, a hopelessly incurable romantic. So hopeless and so
romantic that my poor heart has lead me to declare my feelings of love (all
too) openly. In all the "What was I thinking!?" moments of the world,
this one topped the list. There is no other way to say it in a manner that is
less embarrassing. This next sentence is dedicated to all the poor souls in the
world who have, in one way or another, played the fool for love. I told the most amazing woman I have ever known in my life, that I was head over heels in
love with her, that I would put myself on the line for her, that I would do
whatever it takes, for however long it takes because I believed deep in my
heart that we deserved to be together. I told her that she might not know it or
even believe it, but I know deep in the very core of my soul that I was (and
still possibly am) the guy for her.
Hang on! It gets even better.
Here's the situation: (This next sentence is dedicated to anybody else who
thinks they have what it takes to play the fool for love) She had just newly
gotten together with a guy, a guy that shall henceforth be referred to as
claims)-had-been-chasing-after-her-since-highschool" or simply, "boyfriend". I knew this, she knew I knew, but I did it anyway. I'm no idiot, I'm a
better-class of idiot. I make the rest of them look like bloody geniuses.
It was only natural that she acted as I had predicted (I knew her too well
of course). She did what any normal girl her age would do. She freaked out. And
has now started to loathe my very existence. Pretty harsh considering that we
were once good friends. Note to all: Never fall in love with a friend.
Ah, but my tragic tale does not end there, for if it did, I would still have
the slightest inkling of belief in all that I once held good in the world:
Hope, Faith and above all Love. Needless to say, the world beat it out of me--
NO, to be more precise, my beliefs turned on me and held me in place while I
got the shit kicked out of me by love.
I have now officially been made an example. She narrates the tale to her
friends (who were, one upon a time, OURS) ever so different from how I remembered
(scratch that) knew it in my heart to be. However way
she tells it, it always ends the same. It ends like a twisted fairy tale, with
nothing less than its own twisted lesson at the end. The event "Let
that be a lesson to all you guys" she says "Don't ever DO
something like that, it just freaks us out". (Oh, how she
I don't know bout the rest of you, but it's the last line that painfully
echoes across the scarred walls of my wasted heart. It's the last line that
would cause a completely unemotional person like me to shed tears.
For those of you here at E2 I implore you: Heed her advice. I've started to
think that maybe, just maybe... she's right.
Therefore I conclude from this experiment's result that: It freaks girls out
when you are upfront and honest about your feelings. They don't wanna know.
They just want to see the sad look on your face everytime you're around them.
THe wanting. The longing. That twinkling of love that glistens in the night
sky of your eyes. They enjoy it. Never really knowing what you would possible
give up for them. Never really knowing... You. The You that is embedded with
the pieces of Her. The You with secrets that long to make their escape from
your lips to her heart. The You that might simply never be.
Why did I do it? I knew the outcome long before it began. Lao Tzu
himself would roll over in his grave if he found out what I had done. My
actions subsequently defiled the principles of THe Art of War. I chose to
fight the battle I knew I would not win.
I did it because I didn't want to be like the other jerks that used the
"friends first" method with the shallow intention of
"getting" close, because I didn't want to take advantage of her,
because I believe that to truly love someone means being honest with them,
because I didn't believe that a girl like her deserved something grand and
something no guy has ever had the guts to do, because I wanted to prove
a point, because that point was all about how I didn't care about what other
people thought, (I simply loved her!), because I suck at being subtle, because
I suck at toying with people's emotions, because I knew that despite my best
efforts, I had fallen head over heels in love with the woman whom I thought I
would never in a million years fall for, because I wanted to let her know she
was worth it, because I was an idiot.
Yes. I am well aware that the last paragraph (or sentence) was a running
sentence. Screw Punctuation. Screw Grammar. This is raw, unadulterated emotion.
(Besides I believe that it preserves the quality of the emotion better doncha
Damn the world for making her learn the hard way that what she needs isn't
love, adoration or respect but security. Damn the world for filling itself with
jerks that broke her heart because they didn't know exactly what they held in
their arms. Damn the world for promoting cynicism and the death of
pure-honest-to-goodness-no-strings-attached- True -Love. It probably doesn't
make any difference now. But while we're on the subject of Truth, SHE was the
first girl I had fallen in love with from the inside-out. True. She is the
world's definition of beautiful. But I never saw it like that. In fact, I hated
her at first. Completely not my type. I thought the world was insane. I thought
the world had dropped their standards of beauty. Until the worst possible thing
happened: We eventually worked out our differences and became good friends who
enjoyed each other's company. She had a boyfriend at the time, my best friend.
But he didn't know what he had. He hit her. It was definitely over. And though
I didn't understand it at the time, I was inexplicably filled with rage over
what he did. Silly of me to not notice back then, that I had already fallen in
love with her. It wasn't until a mutual friend brought it to my attention that
I decided to re-examine my feelings. I took a month or two to ponder. I took
too long. boyfriend stepped in. boyfriend was there where I was not. Offering
hope and comfort where I couldn't because I was afraid my actions would be
misconstrued. I didn't want to make it seem like I did it to try and get some "leverage".
I wanted to do it because I couldn't stand to see her in that state. I wanted
to hold her in my arms until all the hurt and the pain of the world would melt
away. I wanted to keep her safe. Because I genuinely cared for her. Because I
genuinely cared about her. Because as I had painfully realized, on the
day I was going to lose her, I loved her. I loved her but realized too late. I
took too long to ponder my feelings and within those 2 months, they got
together. I realized that I could no longer fake my smiles. I could no longer
hide the fact that I cared for her deeply. I couldn't keep lying to myself and
to her any longer. And the rest ,as they say, is history.
All this trouble for Love. I fucked up. No reason that anyone else
should suffer a similar peril. My advice: When you love with all your heart, be
prepared to lose it to a bratty child in a woman's body who isn't content with
just seeing it in pieces. It hurts. All those Songs, Movies, Books,
Television... they all tried to warn me. And for I while I knew. But I never
really knew. I never thought it would hurt this much. Therefore I
propose we come up with a new word for something worse than pain.
But it's funny...
Why don't I regret doing any of this? Why would I be willing to do it all
over again in a heartbeat if I could?