Unrequited love isn't beautiful.
It's ugly and painful.
Like a snake baring fangs and sinking them into your skin. The venom spreading through your blood, slowly making you lose your mind before it reaches your heart. The silent but deadly killer, waiting until you're most vulnerable.
Unrequited love isn't poetic.
It's the darkness you sleep with at night that's haunted you since you were a child; engulfing you in the unknown. The nothingness you stare into while in your bed, thoughts consuming you and dragging you deeper into yourself.
Unrequited love isn't sweet.
All you can do is regret and pine for something you can never have. Something you would die to have. It's not an obsession. It's not a phase. It's impending doom. It's the nightmare you never knew you had. It's the sweet nothings he whispers into your ears.
Unrequited love is the shatter you hear when your heart finally breaks and the pieces hit the floor. It's the streaks of dried tears that you were too exhausted to wipe away. It's that feeling of never being enough that catches in your throat and fills your lungs with water. It's that moment when the only pain you can feel is in your chest. You can't breathe. You can't move.
And unrequited love is when you still love him, even after he tears you apart.
