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You used to deny the fact that you even liked him. But you can’t do that anymore. You’ve given up that façade so long ago. You openly admit it now, openly pin your heart to your sleeve each day and venture out into the big, wide, unknown, desperately hoping and wishing that he’ll finally notice you today.
But you know he won’t. He’s always got someone else – or is too busy with school or sports to pay any of the girls who desperately adore him any attention.
You wish he would pay you attention, though. He’s beautiful – he just doesn’t know it. He’s magical. He’s wonderful. He’s outstanding. He’s so completely stunning, it’s almost revolting.
You used to hate the fact that you couldn’t get over him – you were mad at him, in all honesty. You didn’t think it was fair: you had fallen so hopelessly, so effortlessly for this wonderful boy, and he didn’t even know of your existence. You were mad because you’d fallen in love with a boy you knew hardly anything about, fallen for a boy who wouldn’t ever get the opportunity to honestly meet you or get to know you.
But that anger, that bitterness, only lasted for so long. You soon came to accept the fact that you’ve fallen so hard for this wonderful star of a boy. You soon came to understand that no one would ever compare to him, no one would ever top him. That he was him and that was all he was ever going to need to be special for anyone.
You realize that he’s one of those special people in this world: those special people who impact complete strangers without even trying; people they themselves will probably never have the likelihood, the opportunity, to even meet. And yet, somehow, they still manage to greatly impact you: they send you one smile, or they write amazing lyrics, or books, or have the most beautiful spirit you have ever seen.
They’re beautiful, inside and out, and it’s something no one can ever resist, will never be able to resist.
He’s one of those people. You simply can’t resist him, no matter what you do to convince yourself you should. No matter what you do to tell yourself no, tell yourself that you will only get hurt in the end when he never returns your unabashed, undying love for him.
And that’s what it is, really: love. You love him, desperately, irrevocably so, and you know there is nothing you can do about it, nothing you, or he, will ever possibly do to make you stop feeling this way.
You know no one will ever compare to him for you, and oddly, you’re beginning to be okay with this fact and accept it. You even begin to start embracing it.
You love him, even though you know you will only get your heart shattered at the end of this heartbreak road trip when he doesn’t return your love. You know you’re only going to get hurt in the end, but somehow, you’re okay with this. You’re okay with being in love with someone who will never love you back, because it’s him.
And he will always be special to you. He has always be the one for you, even though you’ll never be the one for him.
And you’re okay with this fact, too: loving him even though he’ll never love you, too, has been one of the best emotions you have ever experienced in your entire lifetime. You love being in love with him.
He’s different from any other boy you’ve ever crossed paths with, different from any other boy you have ever heard about, or talked about, or even been around.
He’s beautiful, and magical, and wonderful, and absolutely, magnificently delightful.
He’s observant, and funny, and shy, and sarcastic – everything you ever could have hoped for and so much more.
You wish he could be yours and you could be his, but since you have know grown to accept the fact that this will never happen, you are content with simply loving him, giving him the heart you know he will never be able to return to you since he doesn’t even know you: since you’re a complete stranger.
You are content with giving your heart away to the most lovely boy you have ever seen, and witnessed, and been around in your entire existence.
You are content with loving him, even though he’ll never love you.
He’s glorious. You love that. You love him. And you wish he could love you, too, but you’re okay with knowing he never will – it’s not your fault, he doesn’t even know you. You are okay with this, because loving him, for once, is enough – even though it has never been enough for anyone else you’ve ever encountered.
You were always horrified at the prospect of getting your heart ripped to shreds, and, ironically enough, this is exactly what this magnificent gem of an angel is doing to you. And for the first time, you are okay with this: you are okay with getting your heart broken, because it’s him, and he will always be different, so much better, so much more outstanding, than anyone else. Ever.
Because he’s him, and he will always be your only exception.
Palm Desert, California
Grand Rapids, Michigan
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"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away." -Anonymous
this is amazing! I can totally relate to it. I love the ending sentence (: