My Unspoken

This post is not about a traumatic life experience, nor is it about the television show. This post is about a boy. Yes, I hear your collective groan, but I can’t promise you haven’t heard this story before. I’m sure you’re all posed to go agony Aunt on me but just read the whole thing before you go sharing your wisened snippets, will ya?

Its hard to write about a person you don’t know, leave alone actually talking about it. Every time I’ve tried, I’ve ended up sounding like a nut job, so I’ve learnt to keep my nuts to myself.

Why am I writing about it now, you wonder? Because, it’s over.  Which is ridiculous because it never even started, and yet, it has an ending.

He crept up on me. Like an advertisement jingle you find yourself humming along to. I didn’t notice him; I noticed that I noticed him. I found myself looking for him and was disappointed when he was nowhere in sight, tense when he was. 

We’ve spoken. Once. It was a disaster. My heart was in my ears and I acted like such a tool.

I hear you saying it’s just a dumb crush but its not. What it is a ‘hmm‘ kinda thing.

A crush is usually a hubber-hubber, wolf howl, eyebrow-wiggle, raunchy whistle, helloooow handsome kind of a deal, which this is- was- not.   

It’s like when your foodie pal has told you about this amazing cake that they swear by the moon, is heaven on a fork. You highly doubt that’s the case, but you let them drag you to the celestial bakery for ‘heaven-on-a-fork’ cake. When you do take the first bite under their smug i-told-you-so gaze, you say, ‘hmm, this is actually pretty good. ‘
That hmmm.

The ‘hmm’ of possibility in reality and not just a fanciful affair. Well, as things stand, he has no clue I exist. And you know what? That’s okay. Sure, I’ll always think ‘maybe…’ but some things just have to be let go.
At least I know his kind exists.     

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