I Wasted My Time On Someone
Can one die being broken-hearted? I believe so.
After so many years, I find that realising I have wasted three full years of my life on someone who really didn't car at all about me, is nearly a relief.
It is relieving, yes, because at least it demonstrates that despite my own errors and my own sloppiness in handling that situation, I still was doomed to lose the battle, no matter how hard I tried.
I loved her, so much and so intensely. We started as friends and colleaugues at university and then we became very close, studying together all days.
I had a huge crush on her and that was the first time I could ever get to speak freely with someone I was in love with.
I felt bad for myself as, while the time went on, I couldn't decide to tell her all my feelings. I've been so close to kiss her so many times that I'm nearly crying right now for that. She was dating but always complained with me she was so unhappy. And I just nodded sympathetically, eroding my soul, drowning in my self-proclamated sadness of being not able to declare myself.
After a while, something went wrong and she lost interest on me. We were still studying together, but she was always away with the mind, that beautiful complicity was lost.
I waited she noticed me again, while she was changing boyfriends one, two, three times. I felt she was walking away from me and that was the cause for real pain on me. One day I decided to tell her everything. It was a day of early March in 2012. She was cold like an ice cube, dismissing my feelings like "it could happen to everyone".
She definitely broken my suffering heart.
But after torturing me for while, not showing up at all and not getting in touch with me, she came up again, with a radiant and magnetic smile, when the exam period was nearly at start.
I didn't want to see the truth, I deliberatedly chose to be blind and ignore the fact that she was simply using me as a study-machine, even turning my deep unconditional love (obsession?) for her to her own purpose.
The nightmare ceased only when, after receiving my BSc, I moved away to a different university for my MSc. This happened in mid 2013.
I a couple of months, I met the love of my life, and the darkness in my spirit was finally cleared up.
She made me realising that I had simply wasted three years of life just struggling around my incapacity of getting into the sympathies of a black-iced heart woman. I threw away the best years in my life for someone who put me aside like a broken toy when she had enough of me. I lost all of my (few) friends in those years, I lost my health.
I gave my first kiss at the age of 22, but for my mind it was like I was aged 19, for the previous three years were spent like in a frozen world, in a air-sealed chamber in which I could only bang my head to the walls while I looked at the image of the Unreachable object of my desires.
Now, after the almost five most beautiful years in my life, I consider myself happy and not anymore prone to such glooming status.
But I don't want to lie and say that I consider myself well recovered from that. To all of those who ask me why did I change university I tell it was because I wanted to reach my girlfriend and because I wanted to specialise in a particular subject.
In reality, I was running away from my certain death.
After so many years, I find that realising I have wasted three full years of my life on someone who really didn't car at all about me, is nearly a relief.
It is relieving, yes, because at least it demonstrates that despite my own errors and my own sloppiness in handling that situation, I still was doomed to lose the battle, no matter how hard I tried.
I loved her, so much and so intensely. We started as friends and colleaugues at university and then we became very close, studying together all days.
I had a huge crush on her and that was the first time I could ever get to speak freely with someone I was in love with.
I felt bad for myself as, while the time went on, I couldn't decide to tell her all my feelings. I've been so close to kiss her so many times that I'm nearly crying right now for that. She was dating but always complained with me she was so unhappy. And I just nodded sympathetically, eroding my soul, drowning in my self-proclamated sadness of being not able to declare myself.
After a while, something went wrong and she lost interest on me. We were still studying together, but she was always away with the mind, that beautiful complicity was lost.
I waited she noticed me again, while she was changing boyfriends one, two, three times. I felt she was walking away from me and that was the cause for real pain on me. One day I decided to tell her everything. It was a day of early March in 2012. She was cold like an ice cube, dismissing my feelings like "it could happen to everyone".
She definitely broken my suffering heart.
But after torturing me for while, not showing up at all and not getting in touch with me, she came up again, with a radiant and magnetic smile, when the exam period was nearly at start.
I didn't want to see the truth, I deliberatedly chose to be blind and ignore the fact that she was simply using me as a study-machine, even turning my deep unconditional love (obsession?) for her to her own purpose.
The nightmare ceased only when, after receiving my BSc, I moved away to a different university for my MSc. This happened in mid 2013.
I a couple of months, I met the love of my life, and the darkness in my spirit was finally cleared up.
She made me realising that I had simply wasted three years of life just struggling around my incapacity of getting into the sympathies of a black-iced heart woman. I threw away the best years in my life for someone who put me aside like a broken toy when she had enough of me. I lost all of my (few) friends in those years, I lost my health.
I gave my first kiss at the age of 22, but for my mind it was like I was aged 19, for the previous three years were spent like in a frozen world, in a air-sealed chamber in which I could only bang my head to the walls while I looked at the image of the Unreachable object of my desires.
Now, after the almost five most beautiful years in my life, I consider myself happy and not anymore prone to such glooming status.
But I don't want to lie and say that I consider myself well recovered from that. To all of those who ask me why did I change university I tell it was because I wanted to reach my girlfriend and because I wanted to specialise in a particular subject.
In reality, I was running away from my certain death.
