Craving the unrequited

I noticed everything about you. I noticed how the tone of your voice changed when your t shirt didn’t fit right. I noticed how you words impacted your energy whether good or bad. I noticed the songs you sang into shampoo bottles as the water covered your body in the shower. I noticed the fear in your eyes when we kissed. I noticed you always. Even with the knowledge that you will never notice me in the same way. There’s a particular pain that comes with that and I carry it like a ritual.

It’s an ache lying in the depth of my chest, of wanting something that never truly arrives. Something in me is addicted to that waiting, that longing. An ache of almost. It’s cruel. But more so on my part. I point the blame onto a man who clearly communicated his intention. His words harsh, but I heard a lullaby.

Part of me questions, what would I do if he decided those feelings were reciprocated? Would I know what to do with those feelings? Would I feel the same? It’s a question left unanswered.