Te espero sentada

Long time devotees of the Sparkle Pantsosphere will remember the enthusiasm with which I did not pursue a certain blue-eyed lawyer type in the former city of my residence. Eight months ago or so, I realized that I no longer cared with every fiber of my being about him and it distressed me, so I pretended that I did care with every fiber of my being until five or six months ago when I could no longer lie to myself. I am thankfully, mercifully over him. Since then, I’ve had a few sad moments, especially when I see someone who reminds me of him but by and large, my memories are becoming grayed at the edges and I haven’t been able to remember his face in a year. The eyes, yes. The face, not so much. There are some memories that I keep in a special place because they thrill me down to my toes, even now, but it’s more the abstraction that I find thrilling instead of his fleeting attention.

Recently, a friend has been asking me questions about the fairness of life and love. Why do we fall in love with people we can’t have? It isn’t fair, is it? Why is the world so cruel? I’ve struggled to answer those questions because I struggled to answer them for myself when I was in the same boat. I still don’t have a coherent response, other than to say that the degree to which you’re willing to live with it is entirely up to each individual. I know people who would rather forcibly remove their hearts from their chests to avoid living with something like an unrequited or unfulfilled love. Me? I’d rather love passionately and with the full fury of the universe for one person than force myself to not love anyone, or worse yet (for me, anyway), love someone else half-heartedly.

But sometimes, even those intense feelings fade and disappear.

And then sometimes, you only think they have.

ETA: I should clarify, as Green Canary mentioned, that this whole loving someone a whole bunch hurts like a mother.fucker (my words, not hers). I would imagine that getting kicked in the face with golf cleats feels better than this.

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Posted on April 16, 2008, in Adventures with Sparkle Pants, All about Sparkle Pants, Boys are pretty, Flocked. Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. “Better to have loved and lost, then never to have loved at all.” I agree with that, but man… the losing? It hurts wickedly.

  2. I feel you Sparkle.
    I’ve spent most of my life “crushing” on men who were unavailable literally or mentally. But, ya know, the times I’ve tried to get a handle on it, or grow up, or whatever you want to call it; the times when I said “Enough! I won’t feel this anymore” were the times when I felt numb and un-human.
    I guess I’d rather feel something that hurts sometimes than feel nothing.

  3. I so can relate to this. I always thought I knew from unrequited love. I spent many a night in my teens writing angsty, why doesn’t he like me, journal entries, so I assumed I was thoroughly versed in the art of not being loved in return. Then I met the guy who became my best guy friend.

    I crushed on him, and he seemed to be crushing on me. When I first met him he was quiet and I decided it was my job to break through that wall…even though up until this moment I was the person most likely to leave all walls alone. We hung out. We bonded. He told me he really liked me, that in the dark cloud that consumed him, I was the one thing that really made him happy. I thought, smooth sailing…you don’t push away the one person who makes you happy.

    Except you do sometimes. When I couldn’t take not knowing any longer, we had The Talk and he told me he cared about me, and he needed me, but I deserved better than he could ever give me. To this day I’m torn between whether he was letting me down easy, or whether he really felt that way, or both. But since I’ve known him (three years) he has dated other girls, but he’s had not one sucessful relationship. He chases wounded, unattainable, girls and gets hurt a lot, but I don’t think he’s really ready for anything else.

    At first it was tough to watch, especially since I had to pretend I had no feelings for him anymore, but as time has gone on it’s gotten easier to accept. He doesn’t love me that way, not now and probably not ever, but my life goes on anyway. Maybe sometime I’ll fall in love with someone else, and maybe I won’t, or maybe some day he’ll fall in love with me too, but regardless, as you said, I wouldn’t trade loving him for getting to escape the hurt I felt.

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