Today, I had to try and explain my feelings about a certain person to someone else. This isn’t the first time I’ve tried and failed and sounded like a bit of an idiot. But I think I might finally try and work this one out; spell it out for myself and probably still sound like a bit of an idiot.
A couple of things to point out: firstly, yes he’s a guy; secondly, no it’s not like that.
I’ve always thought that I can pretty much tell this guy anything, it’s worked out that he doesn’t really know any of my friends, so anything I say, I know will never get back to them. I never actually see him, which (for this reason only) is a bonus, because I can tell him whatever and not be embarrassed when I have to see him the next day.
But actually, when it comes down to it, there’s a hell of a lot I can’t tell him, because a lot of what I would want to say or get off my chest or whatever, is about him. And even the stuff that isn’t, I’m not sure I tell him anywhere near as much as I used to, because I’m becoming increasingly concerned about what he thinks of me.
The long and short of it is: I can’t remember the last day I went without thinking about him. I adore him. He’s one of those genuinely lovely people in the world, and everything he does just makes me admire and love him more. He’s the sort of person I wish I could be. Somehow, talking to him makes me happy, and I still don’t really understand why. The thought of losing him terrifies me, and yet I barely even ‘have’ him to lose.
But the most ridiculous thing is I’ve barely even met him. I talk to him online and that’s pretty much it [and if he’s reading this and didn’t already realise, he now knows it’s him I’m talking about].
I used to hate how much I love him, because it is pretty stupid, and fairly unexplainable, and completely unreciprocated. But recently, I started wondering if it is ever right to hate love. Is it possible to love someone too much? After all, ‘Love comes from God’, is it not something which should be encouraged rather than disputed? I still haven’t worked out the answer. All I know, is that talking to him, and knowing that I have him, at least on some level, is one of the few things which actually gets me through the days. Which is partly why I miss him so much when we haven’t spoken for a while. And why it scares me that the tiniest thing could take that away from me. Even though it is stupid, maybe just the fact that it makes me happy every now and then is worth it?
This blog has actually ended up shorter than I thought it would be, and I still don’t think I’ve even remotely adequately described how much he means to me. I think he knows though. And maybe that’s good enough.
And what’s more, Susie is bloody happy, because for the first time in two years, she actually saw him today :)
A couple of things to point out: firstly, yes he’s a guy; secondly, no it’s not like that.
I’ve always thought that I can pretty much tell this guy anything, it’s worked out that he doesn’t really know any of my friends, so anything I say, I know will never get back to them. I never actually see him, which (for this reason only) is a bonus, because I can tell him whatever and not be embarrassed when I have to see him the next day.
But actually, when it comes down to it, there’s a hell of a lot I can’t tell him, because a lot of what I would want to say or get off my chest or whatever, is about him. And even the stuff that isn’t, I’m not sure I tell him anywhere near as much as I used to, because I’m becoming increasingly concerned about what he thinks of me.
The long and short of it is: I can’t remember the last day I went without thinking about him. I adore him. He’s one of those genuinely lovely people in the world, and everything he does just makes me admire and love him more. He’s the sort of person I wish I could be. Somehow, talking to him makes me happy, and I still don’t really understand why. The thought of losing him terrifies me, and yet I barely even ‘have’ him to lose.
But the most ridiculous thing is I’ve barely even met him. I talk to him online and that’s pretty much it [and if he’s reading this and didn’t already realise, he now knows it’s him I’m talking about].
I used to hate how much I love him, because it is pretty stupid, and fairly unexplainable, and completely unreciprocated. But recently, I started wondering if it is ever right to hate love. Is it possible to love someone too much? After all, ‘Love comes from God’, is it not something which should be encouraged rather than disputed? I still haven’t worked out the answer. All I know, is that talking to him, and knowing that I have him, at least on some level, is one of the few things which actually gets me through the days. Which is partly why I miss him so much when we haven’t spoken for a while. And why it scares me that the tiniest thing could take that away from me. Even though it is stupid, maybe just the fact that it makes me happy every now and then is worth it?
This blog has actually ended up shorter than I thought it would be, and I still don’t think I’ve even remotely adequately described how much he means to me. I think he knows though. And maybe that’s good enough.
And what’s more, Susie is bloody happy, because for the first time in two years, she actually saw him today :)
2 comments:
:) Reading that made me feel happy. I'll be the last person to know why but I don't care.
wow. i wish i could be that honest about what i feel towards people. i have a newfound profound respect for you. you know how sometimes someone else can verbalise what you cant? you totally just did that. now i'm gonna cry.
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