Many people don't know this story, but believe me when I say I was once so deeply infatuated with someone that I started to contemplate whether I was in love.
His name is not one to disclose as he is known by many people. So for now he will bear no name. And dear boy, if you somehow end up reading this, the majority of me wishes for you to not figure out it’s you. There is, however, a small part of me that does hope you realize it is you I have made anonymous. Not so you feel sorry for me, but so that you understand the depth of my feelings, for you had once bewitched me; body and soul.
You see, it all began on April 16th, 2018. Yes, it was that long ago. It was also the day I met him. Now, it wasn’t love at first sight, because that doesn’t exist. It was merely attraction at first sight. Attraction that I very much knew would be felt just by the way he carried himself.
He wasn’t a typical or ordinary boy. From the moment I saw him I felt the urge to know what traits and attributes he holds in that personality of his. I wanted to befriend him. To know him. And I did just that. We talked and texted endlessly and it didn’t take long for me to realize that I had a crush on him.
He shared a lot about his past, his present and what he would want for his future. Each time he told me something I felt a tad closer to him. Like I’d seen a side of him that no one else had and it was the best feeling in the world at the time. I got to know of the many flaws that he had and despite that, I relentlessly admired him.
He left a deep scar, cut, mark... call it what you will. But whatever it was, he left it there and it would take a tremendous amount of healing to get it off me completely. It felt like he'd gotten inside my head, my mind, my heart.
In the past, I would want nothing but to sit and think of him constantly. Think of us. I believed he was made for me and I for him. I remember when he first told me how much be trusted me. I trusted him too. From the beginning, I trusted him with every ounce of my soul. His words stayed inside me. They hit me with such force that I began to fall more and more in lo... No. In like with him. As I said before, I was only contemplating whether or not I loved him. But I never admitted anything to myself.
I remember how he shared his poems with me. It doesn’t seem like much of an issue to you readers but I beg to differ. Poetry is like the key to someone’s naked soul. Poetry makes feelings tangible. And that is exactly what it was for me. The more he shared with me his poems, the more I understood how broken he felt inside and I wanted nothing more than to fix those broken pieces myself. He shared poems about heartbreak, loss, depression. I couldn't fathom the thought of our friendship ever ending or changing for the worse. I was already in too deep. I was under his spell. He dominated my thoughts and feelings.
We told each other anything. Everything. No matter how insignificant, vile, immoral...whatever. We shared our insecurities, our hopes, our dreams. Hell, he even told me the name of his future daughter. I still think it's the greatest name in the world, other than his of course.
To this day, I don't know what type of feelings he possessed towards me, or if he had any feelings for me at all. If he did, then they have ceased. Why, you ask? Well, because he met someone new. A girl.
When he first told me about this girl that he liked, he never told me her name. So after all that we'd been through together, I was left to believe that this mysterious girl was me. Yeah, that’s right. I thought the girl was me.
He spoke about her with clear affection and it was the most beautiful thing ever. Seeing him speak about something he could possibly love made my heart melt.
That was until he started to describe her. Her smile, her likes and dislikes, her height too. Then, I couldn’t help but think: That isn’t me. No, no, it had to be. He liked me as much as I liked him right? I was already so deeply under his skin, and his in mine. He had to like me too.
But no, he didn't. My melting heart froze in its liquefaction and broke into a million pieces. I didn't cry or anything, but I was hurt. Deeply hurt. I had liked this boy for one whole year and about nine months, a long time. So to hear him say that he liked someone else was a wild concept.
I knew exactly who she was. He didn’t have to tell me, I figured it out on my own and I was right. From that moment I couldn’t help but compare myself to her. She is a symbol of perfection compared to me. She's got ‘a cute height’ as he so well put it. And I won't even lie, she’s beautiful. She has an amazing smile, her eyes shine brighter than all the stars and she has the body of a queen. In layman terms, she's hot. Unlike me.
Also unlike me, she has accomplished so much in her life. She goes to a damn good university and she has an amazing voice. A beautiful voice. Hold on, if this sounds like jealousy to you, you’re absolutely right.
I felt jealous. But I didn’t do anything as a result of my jealousy. I didn’t even talk to her at all. I stayed away from her. It was especially hard since he noticeably started hanging out with her more than I did with him. I would see them walking and conversing alone. That used to be me, minus the affection I suppose.
During that time I feigned happiness. Happiness for him. Every time he would bring her up in a conversation I would squeal with excitement as if I were some twelve year old fan girl. I constantly asked about her and hoped to hear that he somehow didn’t like her anymore, making it look like I was happy that he found a girl.
However, all that I did was fake. It was all a lie.
You see, I wanted to be the one he would first say “I love you” to. But it was her. I wanted to be the one to take walks and talk to him about all sorts of things. No, it was her. I wanted to be the first girl he'd introduce to his parents. I wanted his family to feel like my family. He'd already met my parents before and I assumed it was another step to something more than friendship. But it was nothing more than gum under the shoe. A memory waiting to be forgotten.
I thought I would be the first girl he'd ask out on a date, but no. He asked her out and told me all about it. He even told me simple things like how he held her hand more often than not, and during this time I felt defeat sink in more and even more. I felt betrayed, discarded, ignored.
So I tried to force myself to stop liking him. I really did try. But how was I supposed to do that when he still acted the same. He still treated me like I was the only girl until she would find herself in our conversations. On new years eve, he even sent me a long paragraph explaining how much he’s grateful for me, how much he wishes for us to never stop being friends. He literally told me I ‘excite his life.’
But there was that word again. Friends. I was always nothing more than his friend.
He was always so, so sweet. I felt like I was being led on. Like he continued to feed me his lies and give me false hope of our impossible future together. He still called me things like “amazing.” Man, I felt amazing. And despite this new girl, he would always want to talk to me everyday. He would always ask how I was and how I was feeling. He always asked if I enjoyed my day. It sounds like small talk, but it wasn't anywhere even close to that. Each conversation was always much deeper than the last, and I loved it. He still allowed me to explore the depths of his soul. And so, I fell deeper into his trap. A trap where he would soon leave me and go to his other girl. I still allowed myself to fall for him. How could I not when he still acted like I was the only girl in his life?
I couldn’t help but feel played. Like he was toying with my feelings. He elevated me and left me to fall...alone. That caused me to feel bitter towards him. I didn’t want to talk to him after all his games. Maybe he didn’t intend to make me feel like this, but that’s how I felt. He made me feel so alone and forgotten. Insignificant really. I still tried to be his friend but how could I when I felt like nothing more than his prey? I felt like a dying corpse waiting to decompose.
He caused a foreign type of hurt to ignite. A feeling that would seemingly never be forgotten. He played with my thoughts and feelings. He was unfair to me the whole time and it was bewildering to know that he had been oblivious to my feelings.
To this day, our conversations are a rarity. That is mainly my fault, but I do not give a care. I don't wish I never met him. No, I am in fact grateful that I did. He had taught me so many things in the past, things I am grateful for and would rather not forget.
However, it's made me realize that I would rather be his acquaintance than his friend. The amount of hurt and confusion he caused me in the past was tremendous. So much so that I prefer to steer clear of him, to avoid him. Maybe I am being irrational but I wish not to fall into his trap again. So we would rarely talk to each other and I really don’t mind at all.
If he is saddened by our distance, I would do anything to make him feel happy again because I am not a monster. If he wants to talk to me, I'd happily oblige. I would do that because his happiness once mattered more than my own, and I'd be lying if I said it doesn’t anymore. I still want him to feel like the happiest being on earth. I still want him to achieve his goals.
I want to see him succeed, to make it in life. Even if he did it all with another girl by his side. But as far as I was concerned, just as Brontë so well put it, whatever our souls were made of, his and mine were the same. I just never realized how wrong I was.