Five texts. Four Facebook messages.Three Snapchats. Two hand-delivered notes and one young girl admitting her love. All un-returned. All seen, read, felt and. . .one sided.
Maybe it was his cologne that I inhaled too much of, causing my brain to endure the same cloud I saw him dousing himself with before class. Before he thought he'd see me. Maybe it was the way his effortless smile was reserved for me, or the way I'd never felt safer than in his arms. . . .Or maybe it was him.
Maybe he was the first boy I fell for, and maybe he broke my heart without even knowing. So I write this to him, knowing he'll never read this confession of how he never felt.
Let's allocate blame where blame is do. Nowhere. Unto no one can these tears be directed. Not onto me, the girl with the wanderlust heart that aches for the brooding boy I'll never see again. Not onto society for creating these inescapable confines that require me to send five messages before he needs to send one. And not onto him, for if anything, I owe him a thank you.
I owe him a thank you for holding my heart, for holding my hand and my bag alongside it. For being teased about being "domesticated" and laughing it off with a punch to his friend. He deserves at least a smile for being kind to the broken girl, for daring to dream that maybe one day they could be. He deserves what we all deserve--true love and happiness.
What a shame it is that he couldn't find it with me.
I can't make myself stop loving him. I can't make him love me. But I can stop for a moment, dry the tears and put down the chocolate ice cream long enough to say thank you. For if I know what love is, it's because of you.
--Riely--
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