Somehow I can not put into words how I truly feel right now. I'm not sure if my mild depression is due to the weather or because of the painful realization I had a few hours earlier. Or maybe, both.
Denial.
This is perhaps the most common defense mechanism a person uses when facing hurtful truths. And I was in denial the past weeks for one reason. As the days go by, I was in denial for another reason. Just when I was able to accept the truth, a couple of realizations have hit me hard on the forehead.
Firstly, I am smitten. Love is too strong a word and Like is too weak a word to describe how I feel for him. And I forced myself to believe that I only wanted one thing from him, that I am not ready for something serious. I beat myself up to believe that I only wanted to play a game. Because I know that it's only a game to him. I was a challenge, a goal. And after that, I would get disposed.
After months of denial, I finally allowed myself to accept that sad fact. And I made the very mistake of allowing my
self to hope. To hope that he might feel the same way that I do. Misinterpeting his actions as signs of affection, or something deeper. That my friends, is the biggest mistake I've ever
done. Everyday I hoped for him to come around and tell me his feelings. But he never did. And each day I would tell myself to j
ust let it go and just be friends with him. And then he would go on and say things that would make me weak in the knees.
Lastly, every woman has a breaking point. And I have almost reached mine. I am pulling myself together to prevent a heartbreaking downfall. That's when I have come to terms with the fact that maybe, just maybe he's just not that into me. I've always known that possibility. But I hoped that he would actually like me, and maybe even fall for me. I gave myself a false sense of hope. And before I hurt myself even more, I just have to stop. I have to stop this foolishness.
But just like an addict, I kept on wanting more of him. I can not understand the need I feel for him. This may sound a bit obsessive but I'm not. It's like looking at his photos is my daily fix. He's all I ever think about and it's starting to hurt. Does he ever think about me? Does he ever miss me the way I miss him? I don't know. I really don't know.
Before I find myself in too deep, I have to stop this madness. I just have to. For the love of me, I gotta stop this craziness. But I know, I will continue hoping that one of these days, he would finally come around. And I know for a fact that as each day goes by, my heart would break into tiny pieces knowing that he won't ever feel the same way that I do.
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