February 23, 2018
By Anonymous

I think there is something very silently beautiful about unrequited love. It’s delusional, but limitless. There is no harm or hurt or expectation. There is no search for validation. You can appreciate someone’s presence from a distance, as they occupy their own realm, unadulterated. You don’t expect them or need them to enter your realm or prove to you all the one million and one ways they are wondrous. It’s black coffee. Your appreciation for them is sugar but you don’t need your sweetness to invade their space. I appreciate him as a single entity. The way his fingers rub against his fine point pen. The way his voice rides up and down a chimney as he clears his throat. The way he leaves the room. And then always returns. It makes my heart break dance or some s***. You know, I used to think of unrequited love as a gift that I give to someone, with no expected/obliged reciprocation. But I was wrong. The object of my unrequited love is the one giving me a gift. An angel donation. No expectation. They are giving me a free service. They’re my black coffee. That I get to smell and drink without ever draining the pot. Am I crazy? Probably.

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