You can fill your days with hobbies, god knows unrequited love swallows free time like it’s air. Why not begin running, learn to get away, and fast. Or you could read a few novels, is there a more efficient way to stack your life with characters who will eventually leave? Because that seems to be the type that attracts you, the ones you know will end before they begin. You can knit, keep your fingers busy and away from the phone and away from that soft patch of skin you like to hold when you’re alone, to remember. You can finally learn to swim, because it’s summertime and there’s nothing else to do and you’re so good at holding your breath, anyway.
Remind yourself that you are other things besides in love and hopeless and sort of sad in the saddest way possible like, you are also a friend or a son daughter or an employee student and also a thinker, a doer, a person who lives and has lived before this sad, sad mess came to pass. Think about when you were a five-year-old on a beach somewhere collecting shells and digging moats and chasing strangers through the sand because you were about the same height and had the same castle-building interests and wore almost-matching swimsuits. Remember when you were a 10-year-old who wore smiling faces on t-shirts and backpacks and scrunchies and when you were a 13-year-old who was ashamed for having done so. Remember when you were 17 and began to form a soft casing around your stomach that spoke to your affinity for beer, remember when you turned 21 and spent the night spinning and drinking and kissing the best friends you’ll ever have. Remember whatever age you were the first time you had your heart broken and how the pain felt endless until it ended and then it was like you’d imagined it all, a fever dream of a romance. Uncountable things to define who you are, and the only one you toil over is the one you’re not permitted to have you silly, silly…
Go be silly with someone else and maybe you won’t love them, but maybe you will. Maybe you’ll see-saw between having everything and nothing to say to one another until you’re wearing each other’s weight and finding yourselves somewhere in the middle. Maybe in a rush of words they’ll say something arbitrary that for some reason makes your stomach smile, you know, tickles you in ways that a copy paste publish poem can’t. Maybe you’re unsure because you’ve already invested your thoughts and feelings elsewhere without yielding any profit or interest; maybe you feel safer holding on to what’s already failed because that failure is familiar and comfortable and you wear it so well. But maybe — and this is just another suggestion — maybe you can try again, instead of loving someone you can’t be with.
— What You Can Do Instead Of Loving Someone You Can’t Be With By Stephanie Georgopulos (via colourations)
If they don’t reply to your texts — they’re not interested in you.
If they don’t call you — they’re not interested in you.
If they forget your birthday — they’re not interested in you.
If they’re hung up on their ex — they’re not interested in you.
If they’re obsessed with being single — they’re not interested in you.
If they don’t want to meet your friends — they’re not interested in you.
If they don’t want you to meet their friends — they’re not interested in you.
If they don’t ask questions about your life — they’re not interested in you.
If they don’t tell you things about their life — they’re not interested in you.
If they only speak to you when they want to have sex with you — they’re not interested in you.
If they only have sex with you when they’re drunk — they’re not interested in you.
If they say “should we just keep this between us?’ after you have sex with them — they’re not interested in you.
If they don’t have sex with you — they’re not interested in you.
If they can always find a psychobabble rationale about who “I am” or “you are” or “we are” as reason why you can’t be together — they’re not interested in you.
If they have said for more than six months that they would like to be with you “BUT” — they’re not interested in you.
And if you still need convincing — think of it this way. Think of what the real day-to-day of life is taken up by. Life is birthday parties at terrible pubs. Life is losing your credit card and the annual Melbourne Cup sweepstake in the office. Life is hen’s nights, bucks’ nights, sitting on the phone for three hours to get U2 tickets and not getting them, the apartment upstairs flooding your house, interval training, calorie counting, cancer scares, illegal mini cabs, Secret Santa, rail replacement buses and Dido albums. Dogs die, cars crash, bin liners break, contracts end, curtain rails collapse, trains get delayed, football teams lose. Divorce happens and so do earthquakes and so does An Audience With Michael Bublé. Landlords put rent up, phones get stolen and the supermarket often completely runs out of hummus.
Now, taking all of the above into account — you look me dead in the eye and tell me the truth. Do you really have enough spare energy to pursue someone who isn’t interested in you? Do you really want to waste any more time on top of all of that? No. Me neither. So give it up, my friend. It’s a loser’s game. Delete their number. Don’t go on any more dates with them. Stop lurking their Facebook page. Feels good, doesn’t it?