ranty rant rant rant

a hopeless romantic

As a hormonal teenage girl growing up surrounded by romance, I have become a hopeless romantic.

Don't get me wrong, this isn't a quality of myself that I dislike: I am highly proud of my romantic way of thinking and the optimism that comes with the branding of a hopeless romantic. Although, there is a downside to being a hopeless romantic. The hopeless part.

Why I gathered you here today

Zoe has a crush! I know what you're all thinking "are we seriously talking about this again? Zoe, this is literally all you talk about." True. But, when I have a crush, as a hopeless romantic, all I feel like talking about is love and romance and the possibility of me ever getting the nerve to go and talk to this person romantically.

Now, here lies my problem: he potentially has a girlfriend. I use the adverb "potentially" because:

exhibit a: Facebook stalking
Admittedly, not one of my finest moments. So, as I do, I investigate a little into his Facebook because his profile picture was with a girl: which should have been an immediate red flag, right? But noOoOo, I have to scroll through his Timeline, rapidly searching for any thread of evidence that he is going out with Profile Picture Girl (PPG, for short.) Naturally, my results are inconclusive.

exhibit B: word of mouth
My friend and I thought PPG was his girlfriend for months. Months. She went and asked him subtly about her (we didn't want to come off as some crazed stalkers - we're not, we just spend too much time on other people's Facebooks) and he seemed to suggest that they weren't going out. At least, that's what my friend seemed to get from him. So, results = slightly less inconclusive, but still inconclusive enough for me to not know whether he has a girlfriend or not.

Here ends Zoe's case on whether her crush has a girlfriend
Result: inconclusive (unfortunately)

~~~~

I saw pictures of them together on Facebook today. And my heart broke a bit. I mean, it's my fault. I let feelings grow, even though I expect nothing in return for this stupid little piece of my heart that I have reserved for this guy.

It hurts, unrequited like. At times, it feels like a stab to the gut, like the air has been taken from my lungs and placed into PPG's hands and she's just wafted it away. This analogy is getting dumber by the second, but you get my point. At moments, I feel like I'm serving that stupid little piece of my heart on a silver platter with all the garnishes imaginable in front of him and PPG before they both laugh in my face.

Of course, him and I are friends: he wouldn't laugh in my face. He doesn't know (at least, I hope he doesn't) the inner workings of my hopeless romantic's heart and he doesn't know that there is a section of my heart with his name on it and he doesn't know that if he asks me anything that stupid little piece of my heart wants to jump out of my chest and into his hands. He doesn't know of my unrequited like.

And part of me wants to keep it that way. Part of me wants it to stay my dirty little secret, the fact that I can't go too long without developing feelings for one of the first guys I see. Part of me wants me to suffer for doing this time and time again and getting nowhere. Part of me wants nobody else to know because it'll only result in embarrassment for me and not him because he has the confidence and the kindness to not get flustered over a girl's silly feelings.

The other part of me wants to scream from the rooftops how I feel about him. The other part of me wants to imagine our wedding, despite us both being 17 and teenage relationships never really working out for the extremely long term. The other part of me wants me to tell him how I feel and wants him to look me in the eyes and tell me that he feels the same and for him to hug me so tight I can never imagine being out of his arms.

The first part of me is stronger. The second part of me acknowledges the sense of the first part.

What if he doesn't like me back? What if PPG is his girlfriend? What if? What if? What if? What if he did like me back? What if he was having the same thoughts I am? That's usually how it goes. It normally results in my decision to keep quiet about it, telling myself it'll "ruin the group dynamic" of my class.

I know that bottling up feelings is never good, but it sure feels better than making a fool out of myself in front of a person I have reserved a small portion of my heart for, only to have the small piece of love I gave to him - on a silver platter with all the garnishes anyone could want - handed back to me after its garnishes are gone and the platter is covered in mess and all you're left with is a tiny, broken piece of heart.

I like to think that once you've developed feelings for someone, they never really go away. You always have a soft spot for that person (although, if they're a dick then sometimes that isn't the case,) and you will always care for them, at least a little bit, whether you want to or not.

To me, that is what being a hopeless romantic is all about: always loving them, always liking them, at least a teeny tiny bit.

"You see? That is just like you, Harry. You say things like that and make it impossible for me to hate you." - Sally Albright, When Harry Met Sally (Nora Ephron)