Source: http://www.zerochan.net/203447

Perhaps one of my more self-journalistic/diary posts. Anyways. One of my moments during the camp trip I was on for a few days. But first of all, I always listen to music to set the mood when writing up a post. Something I stumbled upon: that brought up some of the sad moments again. I don’t have the balls to go out and approach a girl if I’m interested in her or have any feelings for her, but I don’t have the balls either to take it to the extreme and cuddle up with a dakimakura, so I fail at the EQ aspect. IQ is above average though, or at least that’s what the test tells me. Heck, I can barely even speak in Skype to people much, even close friends.

But on the camping trip, I met this girl I haven’t seen in a long time. Of course, I knew that she was dating a friend which I still considered a dear friend. We talked a bit, but not much during the camping trip, as much time was spent on different activities and talking to other people.

Back then, I guess I had a bit of a crush on her. Childish, even. She was a bit older than me and I somehow had the impression that you couldn’t date girls older your age. I always saw guys dating younger girls back then, or maybe it was just a school thing. Therefore, I put it aside as one of my impossible situations. After all, I was but a young kid who was shy to no bounds, and her, an active, free spirit, with the most positive attitude in the world. It wasn’t a “she was hot” or lust for beauty, either. She looked fine by my standards, and my real life standards are surprisingly high according to orders.

What caught my eye was her smile. Her laughter. Her positive attitude. Her openness. A complete reflection of my personality.

She always brightened the room (and me) up whenever she talked, or laughed, or just got involved. She would even laugh at some of the weirdest and lamest things, but that’s what made her special. There was no lust at all, just a pure desire of wanting to know and be with her more. Love even.

I always had this attitude of reciprocating ever since I was young. “An eye for an eye” thing, probably. Although that’s sort of faded as I grew up, I kept treating people who treated me well nice, and vice versa. However if there was barely any contact, I tend to do the same. I hate myself for that.

I kept thinking that we would balance out. That we could somehow hang out more and possibly get to know each other more. That she could notice that I wanted to talk to her. Or maybe it was just a childish crush I had back then that she never picked up on. But by that time I became a bit more brave, it was too late.

Sometimes when you look back on a situation, you realize it wasn’t all you thought it was. A beautiful girl walked into your life. You fell in love. Or did you? Maybe it was only a childish infatuation, or maybe just a brief moment of vanity.

Henry Bromel, Northern Exposure, The Big Kiss, 1991

She had got together with one of my close friends and stuck together ever since. It wasn’t like I began to hate the two or anything. They were actually a perfect fit. Two peas in a pod. I wish all the happiness for them. The guy was happy-go-lucky, positive, and cheerful as well. I looked up and admired them both. They were everything that I weren’t. I don’t think there would be any way that they could somehow drift apart.

But maybe I didn’t think it clearly enough back then. I put it aside, like nothing, since they were always joking around with each other. They had that kind of attitude. Maybe I didn’t really pick up on it. But after I asked her about their relationship, it became set in stone in my mind. Then the curtains draw and the music fades, and reality sets in.

The greatest pain that comes from love is loving someone you can never have.

 

And on the way back home, I felt those feelings rekindling within me again. Now I realized that it was truly impossible, with no chance of something ever happening. It felt painful. But I swallowed it like I did with all my emotions. Lacking words escaping my mouth, I write. I remembered all those times she used to cheer me up, to light up the room and make me feel truly happy. I wish I could put a tear on this post like they do in letters to make it dramatic. Because that’s how I felt.

Maybe I would’ve had a chance to tell her what I felt if I made the first move. Maybe she will somehow find this page and realize I’m talking about her. Forget it. He’s better for her anyway. I still have much room for improvement. But until then, I stay broken-hearted for just a while longer.

This is where people who are literary experts would delve into poetry or a literary masterpiece, and artists would draw a captivating picture to set the tone. But I’m not any of that. The only thing that connects us by a common factor is music. And maybe I will make a song about her one day. But until then, I pick up my guitar once more and attempt to finish the job. No more dust. No more excuses.

Forever alone.