It's My Fault, Really

Love. This little, four letter word can bring so much happiness. It can also bring pain. A pain worse than any other. Greater than any physical pain you could ever feel. It's the emotional pain that shines through. Or more like burns.

Painful love comes in many forms. Maybe you love them, but they could care less. Maybe you love them, and they don't even know. Maybe you love them, but they love someone else. And really, that's probably, in my opinion, the worst case.

You love them with all your heart. You want to lay in bed with them at night and hold each other so close that you can hear nothing but the beat of the other's heart. You want to wake up in the morning and open your eyes to see them right next to you. Look into their eyes and see the sincerity speak to you, saying 'I'm here. For you and only you. I love you. So much...' You want them to look into your eyes and hear the exact same thing.

However, in reality, there's only one thing keeping that from happening: your eyes are the only ones saying it. What's the word for this? Unrequited. Unrequited love.

They say love is between two people, right? Well unrequited love is the exception. It's love on one side. Unrequited love can be a good thing in a way. There is no mutual love, true, but that means that if you don't have something in the first place, you can't possibly lose it. There's nothing to lose. You still feel hurt though. You feel as though you've lost something you've never had. It hurts not having it, but I swear to you it hurts much worse having it then losing it.

Love is about wanting them to be happy. Even if you're not the one who's happy. You see him holding her hand so tight. Almost as tight as your heart feels. You smile and pretend everything is perfectly fine. You try to convince yourself that you don't mind, but you know that you care. It's tearing away at your heart, isn't it? Your heart feels so heavy. Like it's about to blow up any second. The agony is unbearable. But yet, for some stupid yet logical reason, you keep up the façade that it's fine. If only they knew what they were doing to you.

You pretend you're happy when really you know that's not the case. There's only one word to explain. One very vague, understated word: sad.

Except it's not them hurting you. It's you hurting you. Keeping everything bottled up helps close to none. Hey, maybe if they knew, they may feel the same way. Have you ever thought of that? You probably haven't because you're so busy trying to hide the pain. Maybe it's not unrequited after all. But you'll never know, because they don't know how you feel.

Like the quote says: "To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves."

How true is that, eh?