It hurts the most when you are in love with someone who can never love you back. You don’t even exist. You watch them walk, you observe every movement, you misinterpret everything they say to other people. They don’t even talk to you. You are ignored. Disregarded. The dissolved girl from Massive Attack’s song. The boy who cries. That’s you. Pathetic and ugly. Sure that you can never be loved the way you love back. Your self-esteem is drowning. The love you have in your heart is destroying you slowly. You tried so hard to hide it, but how could you hide this desire consuming you? Then your beloved soulmate is kissing someone else up against the locker rooms, their bodies touching, their hands in each other’s hair. You slowly ache and walk by like nothing earth-shattering is happening five feet away. You start smoking and writing poetry. Journals upon journals of how your heart aches for the love of your life. Throughout your life no one comes close to this phantom love. Idealistic love. No one can compare to this perfection you never felt. You just knew. You felt it. But what if it was all an illusion? What if that person was not deserving of your love? You will never know, and decades later when you run into this person, you feel fifteen again. Nothing has changed but gray hair on your heads and you both pass each other as strangers. Yet, you feel so close to this person in an absurd way you can’t understand. So you smile, and say hi. And they finally see you and recognize you and knew all along you were in love with them. They know. Just that they never loved you, and that’s fine. You are over it. Except, not really. You never get over someone who never loved you back.