Agony /n/


“He has had to watch you go from one guy to another, and then the engagement, and then the engagement was off. And patiently he’s waited. And now, in walks this kid, and he says, ‘My God, will she date everyone else in the world before she’ll date me?’”

– Sookie St. James of the hit Warner Brothers’ television show, Gilmore Girls, in reference to Lorelai Gilmore’s clueless obliviousness towards Luke Dane’s affections…

*big sigh*

Okay. This may actually take you by surprise, but I think you’re really stupid. You have absolutely no idea what you do to me, and the thing is, you probably will never know. Because if you ever find out, I know I would lose you, and I just can’t take that risk. I wouldn’t know what to do, or how to act without you in my life. I cannot possibly face the rest of my life knowing we can never be as close ever again.

All pretensions aside, I think I’ve fallen for you. There, I’ve said it. Actually, I think I’ve been falling for you ages, no, eons ago, but I’m only just realizing it now. And the thing is, I may have never really ceased falling for you during all those months that we’ve not seen each other. I guess it just really took me a while to admit & figure it out for myself.

I remember that day we got to see each other again after what seemed like forever. You merely uttered one, plain “Hello,” together with your trademark sweet, fleeting smile, and damn, suddenly my whole world was turned upside down. All those feelings I assumed to have died already just came rushing back to me, and what I’ve felt, or have been feeling over several years of silence, just got instantly reaffirmed. I could’ve sworn I thought I was over you. Turns out, I was only missing you. So much so that when we got to see each other again, I fell for you like a ton of bricks harder.

I cannot even begin to elaborate on what it is that’s going on inside my neurotic head. All I know is that I’m more nervous around you than anybody else. When you lean your head on my shoulder, or when you touch my arm, my heart just palpitates faster as electricity courses through my nerve endings, and I just can’t comprehend why. The mere whiff of your languorous hair, to me, is intoxicating, and it always takes my breath away. You leave me babbling and blundering over the most nonsense of all meaningless things, and yet I don’t end up feeling ashamed. Your smile easily lights up any room you’re in, and it’s all that I see. When I’m around you, I feel like I can be King of the world, and not the pathetic loser that I really am. Your mere presence just causes me inexplicable joy. With you, I could want nothing more than stand at your side, at the ready for your every beck and call. With you, I feel… That’s just it.

Call it stalking or call it love, all I know is that it’s real. But sadly, whatever I’m feeling is and will always be both gut-wrenching and bittersweet. Eh, it’s only natural. After all, it just wouldn’t be my life if there wasn’t a catch, right? Let’s see… You’ve made countless commentaries on what you want and don’t want for a relationship that I could not possibly deliver in this lifetime. Your description of the ideal guy, I couldn’t even imagine to exist. You’ve been serious with guys I can’t even compare to, how does one simpleton compete? Because let’s face it, I’m boring and dull, I’m a total dork, and I am the least romantic person I know. I probably won’t bring you flowers, because we both know they wilt and die anyway. Balloons easily deflate after their, what, two-day glory? Why should anyone bother? Chocolates are no good either. I’d have eaten them before they get to you. I’ll probably be too lazy to pick you up or bring you home, or maybe just make up some totally lame excuse. Lord knows I’m uber-famous for those. I won’t do stupid little-things-that-matter, they’re little and they’re stupid, why the hell should I bother? And no, I wouldn’t do all those things and gestures just for you or the sake of it. Chivalry is dead, and we both know I’ll only be doing it because I have to. It just wouldn’t really be me. Yeah… you would rather be dead than get caught introducing me as your boyfriend.

It’s sad, I know. Actually, no, it’s really ubiquitously me. But this is exactly how it is with me and you. And as pathetic as pathetic goes, I’ll probably grovel and beg for the fleeting chance to be a temporary fling, or for any God-given sign that there’s the slightest inclination to the remote possibility that somewhere in the deep recesses of that oblivious heart of yours, there could actually be a cramped little nook for little old me. Unfortunately, you’ve obviously made it a point that you want me nothing more than as a friend. So much that I think you might even be considering me as one of your girlfriends, and I hate that! That is just about the worst thing that could ever have happened. It is a bit confusing, and if you don’t get it, you won’t, so don’t bother trying. It’s a guy thing. See, when you meet a girl you like, you’re never supposed to cross that line of friendship. Because after that, you just become the best friend, and there’s nothing you can do to change her opinion of you after that. There’s no turning back. Everyone knows you never ever fall for your best friend. It’s like this universal unspoken rule.

The shame and humiliation doesn’t end there too. Oh yeah, it gets more complicated. Somehow, you would always tend to ask the most difficult of questions. Have I ever experienced heartbreak? Do I have prospect girlfriends? Who do I think is the perfect guy for you? Well, I’ll be damned. How in heaven’s name, do you propose I answer those, exactly? Yes, I’ve experienced heartbreak, over you. I could definitely think of a prospect girlfriend, except she’s a good friend who’s completely aloof and oblivious about me. No guy would ever be perfect or even remotely good enough for you, because I should be that guy. How do you suggest I tell you these answers, huh? Oh, and don’t even get me started with your cute little comments about other guys being cutesy sweet, or incredibly gorgeous, because dammit, I do get jealous. A lot. See what hell you put me through? And you know what else I find to be so frickin’ infuriating? I’d gladly put the blame on you for all of this bull, except I’d have already forgiven you beforehand. What’s funny is that, you won’t find out about it in the first place, because I choose to just keep silent and mum about all this. Again. And again. The point is, I don’t care if I implode or go completely nuts. To me, it would always be better that you be left in the dark about my feelings. That way, nothing will change. You won’t have to feel inconvenienced or stressed out over such meaningless things. We won’t have to feel awkward around each other, we will remain close, and I can go on torturing myself with our forever platonic relationship, and the mere thoughts of our insane closeness that I am perpetually unwilling and unable to pursue and divulge into for reasons already mentioned. At least with silence as my solace, I can still be your friend, and we won’t have to drift apart due to awkward tension brought about by any rash and impulsive revelations, we both know you don’t want to hear. It may be overdramatic, but the truth is, real life just aint like in the movies. The guy doesn’t always get the girl, especially the one that didn’t stand a chance from the very beginning. It doesn’t play out like it does in your head, and it runs with excruciating slowness. What you see in movies only happens in dreams, and what we have… it’s nothing short of a nightmare.

Yes, you did and are breaking my heart. But please know that I am not holding you accountable for my pain, for it is completely self-inflicted. So don’t put too much thought into it, alright? Because whatever “it” is, is undeniably one-sided. Yeah, yeah, I get it. And I’ll have you know that I intend, with all my willpower, to keep you clueless about all this crap; because at the end of the day, this suffering is what keeps me going. And this agonizing torture might just actually be that thing they call Love, and I strongly believe that Love should never be selfish.

*big sigh again*

You know what? Love is absolutely, 100%, not all that it’s cracked up to be. In real life, Love aint no saint. Love is just a retrospective name, given by hopeless romantics, to situations in each other’s lives, which garnered desirable and idealistic circumstances. Love is nothing more than a mere underdeveloped concept. So fuck Love! It’s all bullshit and crap! (sigh) But for what it’s worth, I found Love in you. And I say this from the bottom of my heart, that in my book, you, or anything else associated with you, can never be a bad thing.

P. S.

If you happen to read this post by any chance, please don’t flatter yourself. I am most probably referring to some other girl whose relation to me just happened to have a striking resemblance to ours. This would never be about you, so don’t bother confusing yourself with thoughts of how it might just be.



~ by iamnotfrodo on July 1, 2006.

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