The guy that I like, doesn't like me.
Sometimes, it doesn't take a direct rejection to know if you're unwanted. I learnt that pretty much the hard way. But this post isn't gonna be about how heartbroken and sorry I feel about the entire issue... It really is just some scattered thoughts that I would love to put into words.
Liking someone made me a better person. This was a change I experienced in myself. Trust me, I was genuinely amazed. I never knew that angelic characteristics even existed in me. (haha)
I asked him once, and he said he liked girls to be altruistic. Perfectly understandable, I mean, how can anyone actually hate on someone who constantly puts others before themselves? I became altruistic for him. I know, weird huh? How can you become altruistic for someone? You either are, or not. But I did it. Whatever I did, his words reminded me to be altruistic. Now I think about it, I don't know what to feel about myself... I feel childish for trying to impress him, yet I feel proud for becoming a better me. I feel... Ambivalent.
“I suppose it’s this ability of yours not to care that intrigues me so.
If I loved you, I would tell how much you’re missing because of that. I would find ways to convince you that I exist. I would resist erasure every moment that I could.”
— Robin Black
He wasn't the type that constantly holds on to his phone just to reply messages. Of all the messages that I texted him, he could've easily only replied fifty percent of them, each reply taking quite some time. I was fine with that. I waited for his replies, and when he did, I eagerly replied him in minutes. In a way, he taught me patience, and he taught me tolerance.
To say that I don't feel insecure about his replies, and the fact that sometimes he doesn't even reply would be a lie. I always, always, always feel that I'm bothering him, and each message that I took the initiative to send I crafted them sincerely. But after awhile, anyone could sense that he just wasn't interested. Even if he was, I never knew. I tried my best breaking down the walls between us, but I guess that wasn't enough, and I, obviously couldn't do it by myself. It takes two hands to clap after all, right?
my favorite eye color is your eye color and my favorite height is your height and my favorite weight is your weight my favorite hands are your hands my favorite knees are your knees
I always mentioned that I never had an 'ideal type' for a boyfriend, but yet I genuinely believed that he was perfect for me. I liked every bit of him. Every. Single. Bit. I never knew why I did, though. Perhaps it's the way he speaks? Or perhaps it's the way he made me laugh? Or maybe because he's about the only guy who told me I looked better in glasses. I never knew, and I still don't.
In fact, I was ready to become whatever he wanted me to be. I was ready to dye my hair blonde, if he likes it. I was ready to cut straight bangs, if he said they were cute. I was ready to trawl through tons of chick flicks, if he says he enjoys them. I was ready to learn how to cook, if he says he admires girls who can cook. I was that ready, and that silly.
Liking him sure did make me a better person, and every time I think about liking him, I always thank him secretly. But liking him also kills my faith in him, and sometimes in me. I don't regret liking him. And I don't think I ever will. Till the very end, I tried my best.
If one day he comes to like me, and the fact that I'm still single and not in love, I would most probably like him back again. He's someone that I truly treasure, and my only regret is not being able to break down our barriers by myself.
For now, he's still my favourite hello, and hardest goodbye, but......
Here's to my infatuation being paused for the moment,
Chels x