Uh oh. It's fourth period. That means major stomach pain, stuttering speech, and clammy hands. He sits two seats ahead of me in class, and my vision is blurred. I can't see the board, nor do I care what the teacher has to say. I just can't wait until the clock hits 11:13, can't wait until I can leave this crowded room and gather my thoughts.
Why does someone have the power to make me feel this way? Why can't I think straight?
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He was a runner. He enjoyed The Lumineers and M83, among some other choices I didn't find as appetizing. He liked blueberries. And rice. He had a strange sense of humor, but his jokes exhibited absurdity that is the absolute best kind. Through all of his lightness, he was also dark. I learned he didn't worry about the little things, but struggled deeply with the solutions that evade all of us. I've never met someone who wanted more to understand time, who wanted more to understand purpose.
Eventually, I discovered I was head over heels. I've had crushes frequently in my life, but it was never something like this. It was a deeper feeling, a fondness far beyond being charmed by a glance or a smile.
But of course, I was haunted by a question: Did he feel the same way?
I struggled to find the answer without directly approaching him. I was too afraid of the rejection, so I looked for the answer in other ways. With time, I learned through friends that he felt strongly about another girl.
It stung, and I yearned for validation. All I wanted was a return on my investment and for him to complete my fairytale. For a while, I felt like a walking cliché. I was the embodiment of “You Belong with Me" by Taylor Swift, sitting on the sidelines lesser because I wasn't the “cheerleader" type.
People didn't really understand how I could feel the way I did, either. It wasn't justified to them, because we were never actually a couple. No, we never went on a date. No, we never held hands, or even kissed. Though it was unrequited, I don't think that means I had any less of a right to the emotions. He is one of my best friends, and I will carry a part of him with me always. I appreciate the times we spent together, even though it was without the grace of romance. One night I fell asleep on his shoulder, and it is one of my sweetest, happiest memories. I'll never forget laughing and butchering the words to “Carry on My Wayward Son" while we drifted off during the wee hours of Relay for Life. It's quite comical, because anyone in my senior class could tell you who my “love" was, and how he gave me butterflies. He now knows who he is as well.
Ultimately, though, he gave me a wonderful gift. The experience taught me how to be on my own, to revel in the comfort of solidarity. Though I'm never opposed to having an arm around me, I now know I don't require one, either. Alone is okay, and it'll only allow for individual growth and understanding. I treasure the times I've spent with books, the sunset, at matinee movies. Without this initial rejection, I don't think I would have any semblance of the independence I'm grateful for. And without “dating myself," I wouldn't be secure enough to date another person.
If we don't fear the unrequited, we can be braver in our pursuits. I'm still learning more and more what an incredible thing it is to love yourself without needing others to love you.
