I always thought it’s a bad idea to fall in love. Especially one that is unrequited. Now, I’m just waiting for that part of me to tell the other one, “Didn’t I tell you so?” because right now, the tiny poke that I’ve carefully tended for months and months in fear of this exact situation had grown into a huge hole that’s rapidly letting lose torrents of emotions every time something of him triggers it.
Does he know that he can make or break my day? Does he know he can render me speechless even in my most hyper state? Probably not. Because those people who know they have these abilities had gone to the past — are now part of the past. Sent straight to the past by a teary confession and chest pains.
So, can you tell me where love goes when it’s gone? Is it turned into something else every time it’s gone, like atoms and particles? I really don’t know what I’m writing about right now, all I know is that, I’m assuming, once again, and probably I’ll have another heavy land this time.
I don’t learn, do I?