This Is What It’s Like When You Hang On To Someone Who Will Never Be Yours


“Maybe it’s okay not to know who you really are. Maybe it’s fine to just admire you from afar.”

I’m afraid.

Afraid to face the possible truth of spending the last six years of my life chasing after someone I thought was the only one I wanted and the uncertainty that he might not be. In my head, you are my knight, molded in perfection and ideals. The only one I’d love to end up with. Or are you?

Sure, the last six years was full of never ending tears, countless disappointments, and agonizing heartaches and I still find it amusing how I can’t at least loosen my tight grip of you.

Though waiting was indeed painful, it also gave me something: hope. Something that motivates me to get up in the morning and say, “I may not be happy now, but I will if I wait.” You’re my reason. My mind is set for only you. I kept on telling myself that enduring such adversities will in the end reap me with a gift; and that is you.

But now I’m starting to realize I’m all wrong. Having you as the lone person (or having a specific person) to hope for, was a mistake. I failed to let everything happen at its own pace. I had my mind preoccupied with the thoughts of us, you in my future and nobody else. I had preserved your image pure and flawless, to make waiting for someone like you, worth it. It’s like mistrusting God and his plans by making my own.

I failed to consider that destiny might not always play in favor of me, that you might not be the kind of man I have always had in my head.

No. I don’t want to know who you are and entertain the idea that you are indeed a human fairly given the right to love whomever you want; that I might have reserved a special part in my heart for someone not willing to take it.

I don’t want to discover it was all for nothing.

Looking back, I blame timing for not giving us that chance to know each other deeply. Why we are denied of the time to spend with each other and learn stuff about you and me. Why a simple “Hi” and “Hello” has been the longest messages we shared. But they weren’t.

It wasn’t because of timing, nor was it destiny trying to set us apart. It was me and my fear. I refuse to stay longer, nearer, ‘cause I don’t want to stain that plain white image I have of you, to know you can sometimes be at fault and low and realize that I’ve long been barking at the wrong tree. I tried to keep lingering just around the corner, because knowing too much about you or finding out you might be after someone already could massively break my heart and end my hopeful mornings.

No. I don’t want know who you are. It’s a lot better that way. I am safer this way. At least, that’s what I thought.

Keeping my distance, did not save me, not even slightly.

It did not stop the tears from falling.

It did not put an end to all the disappointments.

It did not liberate my heart from bruises.

It in fact, kept me in pain the longest.

What I had were false hopes. I should’ve let you go when I had the chance, because as days turn to years, it gets harder and harder. I should’ve.

Because now I know, hoping for a certain person to fall in love with, as the only means to be happy; is a hoax. Because that is not how it works. You don’t force it. Waiting for love to come around unexpectedly yet perfectly timed, along with the equally faulty yet just right person, is. It is about putting all your trust on God’s judgments and timing.

I wish I could still do it. Well maybe I can, it’s just on this day I am uncertain.