Put your hand on your heart and tell me

Put your hand on your heart and tell me

The slightest interest can be futile.  It can uncork you and make you feel empty.  Depleted.  His text, a smile – his arm around your shoulder.  You turn up to meet him, and he has others with him.

I got married early and came out late – I never knew what unrequited love felt like.

It’s horrible.  It started off feeling like love, and then when I realised what was happening, I compartmentalised it and treasured it on its occasions.  But then I find myself hating the emptiness that follows it.  I say ‘it’ because it’s not isolated to a meeting, a movie, a drink, an email, or a thought.

I forage for his affection.

Though I’m not idle.  I don’t wait for him to have a change of heart nor do I wonder what he’s doing in moments of the day.  It’s moreso waiting for the moments he throws at you, like a treat to a pet.  There is no metaphor desperate enough – I literally ask how high when he says jump.

I don’t blame him, he doesn’t have to validate my feelings, he has done that already – years ago.  I take it then, that I am to be blamed for the conundrum of my own un-conviction?

I surveyed my peers.  Unrequited is a folder in everyone’s heart.  Varying levels that took thoughtful consideration to discuss, almost as if telling a secret.

Ranging from regular catch ups with somewhat fulfilling love, some have only mental stimuli to sustain themselves with, others again – a glimpse only of their hearts affections.

I feel somewhat embarrassed and indulgent confessing this piece tonight, what if he was reading this and thought it were he?  But one must be honest in matters of the heart and it’s a shared, painful topic for others too.  Some people get to fall in love, many never get the chance and others ask if one sided is enough?

Well, it’s one thing to fall in love…

INFO: Follow John on Twitter  •  Facebook:

You May Also Like

Comments are closed.