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Requited Lust?

By , West Orange, NJ
On this day, for reasons that bewilder me, I experienced a sense of yearning that was more unyielding than any emotion I had ever felt in the brief yet vast amount of time I have spent walking this wondrous earth; I longed ever so ardently to visit the infamous reservation. The extent to which I desired to do so was slightly unsettling, even to someone as lighthearted as I; it was as though a fragment of my nomadic yet tender soul had eminently resided within the delicate green grass that seemed rarely to have been trotted on. Though the temperature was torturously high, an intangible force beyond my influence seemed to have alleviated every ounce of my apprehension. I cared not about the responsibilities I was leaving behind; my ten-page research paper for history class that I neglected to have even commenced at the time would have to have been deferred for yet another few hours or so. While contemplating the appropriateness of my abrupt urge to return to the location of our first rendezvous, I deemed my appetite for reminiscence insatiable unless I was able to physically relive the splendor of the occasions we had indulgently spent together, however scarce they may have been: not that I desired to regress to our impassioned days, but, rather, I wished to surmount my now unacceptable aspirations.

Upon reaching my destination after walking nearly a mile where pedestrians typically do not, I reveled in the simple elegance of the scenery that surrounded me. While I watched the grass sway gracefully with the wind, I closed my eyes for a prolonged moment as bittersweet thoughts of you enfolded me. Three months ago, our first covert meeting had taken place less than ten steps from the bench on which I was laying. Nostalgia set in as I remembered walking through the snow, hand in hand with you after sneaking out on that chilly Friday afternoon. Since my desire for you had long been forbidden, the satisfaction I experienced the day we began seeing each other was unlike any other. Alas, upon opening my eyes, your absence had become more distinguished than it had ever been.

Five days prior, we sat in your mother’s car, not far from where I had currently been situated, as you expressed the inevitability of severing all ties with me. Regardless how diligently we endeavored to conceal our deepest secret, one of your closest friends, who also happens to be my past “boyfriend,” finally discovered the truth about our purely sexual relationship, and due to his neuroticism and instability, he reacted in the most contemptible way. To my understanding, he elicited a sense of guilt within you to such an extent that you completely detached yourself from anything that pertained to me. Nonetheless, he cannot be blamed for your lack of interest in me. A few weeks before he uncovered our hidden agendas, you expressed your candid feelings. Astonishingly, you had never considered me to be anything more than a friend, which, in turn, suggests that my body was merely an object that could potentially be used to fulfill your deepest sexual desires. Momentarily, when we became “friends with benefits,” I told myself that emotional attachments were unnecessarily overrated and that their sole purpose was to destroy all parties involved; perhaps the heart-wrenching break-up I experienced with your best friend less than a year ago had assisted me in losing touch with the dangerous emotions I had once experienced. Rather than valuing myself as my parents had taught me to, I became a doormat who would act irrationally, merely in order to feel a sense of belongingness from someone I would never even have a chance with. At the time, my philosophy seemed to have been, “In life, everything concludes at some point, and thus, I should seize all available opportunities, no matter the cost!” Some may argue that, in turn, I had actually sold my soul to satisfy your (and my) physical vice.

Although many assume that losing you has caused me to feel an enduring sense of emptiness, I have never quite been as fulfilled as I currently am. When you asked me the extent to which I felt upset, I told you that I was not the least bit disconcerted. In fact, I was appreciative of all the instances we spent together, despite the fact that they may not have been as meaningful to you as they were to me. Although we were immoral to have begun a hidden relationship without informing your best friend, I do not regret a single minute of it. After all, what we do behind closed doors is none of his business, for it does not affect him directly. Despite having lost regard for my feelings months ago, as a mentally unstable person, perhaps he deserved to have known about our little secret.

When certain people uncovered the reality about our “relationship,” they were quite dismayed; according to their perspectives, conscientious, straight A-students are not entitled to engage in such perilous and despicable behavior. Regardless of the judgment we have received, I remain unashamed, for no one is perfect. Mistakes tend to strengthen our character if we learn from them. From you, I became aware of my own self-worth; no longer will I permit people to use me for their convenience. A few exciting moments are not worth degrading myself and those who are potentially involved. Strangely enough, my passionate longing for you has not quite dwindled away.

Today, while sitting atop the wooden table with my dirt-covered sandals resting beside me, my eyes drifted to the parking lot where we used to talk on Friday nights. I still recall the first day my mother allowed me to leave the house with you; knowing that sneaking out of my house was no longer necessary had delighted me in unprecedented ways. After becoming lost in reverie, I noticed that you, physically, had been walking in my direction. As my heartbeat increased, I turned the other way and ensured that my face was not visible to you or the girl you were walking with (who, I would presume, is merely a friend, just as I had been). When I thought you exited the reservation, I slowly walked around, but I sensed your presence upon noticing that your mother’s car was parked in the middle of the lot. Again, I attempted to conceal my face, as I had a hunch that you would not want to see me at all. Though I did not intend on spending much time outdoors, I remained situated on a bench for an extended period of time. When I decided to relocate, I sat on a giant boulder that was slightly closer to you; all the while, I hoped that you would not look in my direction, for my back was faced toward you. Afterwards, I paced back and forth, out of your visual field, wishing to remain invisible; though, you must be rather oblivious if you truly did not notice me.

To this moment, I am unaware of whether you discerned my presence in what can be deemed “your” territory. If you did, I cannot even begin to envision the antipathy you must have felt; I understand that I should not have visited the site that harbors all of our beautiful memories, but it surely consoled me to witness your genuine happiness. While you may have lost all regard for my sentiments (presuming that you were once even the slightest bit concerned), I have not forgotten that you are as much of a human being as I am. I care deeply about how you feel, and if it means that my departure from your life will cause you great delight, then, without a second thought, I shall willingly leave you alone. Regardless of what transpired in the past, life goes on. Today, I shed not a single tear on your behalf, as I was fully content upon seeing you revel, in my absence. Perhaps someday, our paths will cross again. Until then, I will move on, for my chance at maintaining even an innocent friendship with you is virtually nonexistent. When all else fails, you will always harbor a special place in my heart, for, although you did not like me as much as I liked you, I have never encountered anyone who has been nicer to me than you have been. Though commencing a “relationship” solely for sex was not among the most intelligent of all decisions we have made, I do not resent you, for, its demise was as much my fault as it was yours. As a matter of fact, I cannot blame either of us for the way we ended; I can only blame destiny from which we cannot escape. While you may not have considered me as such, you have always treated me like the human being that I am (or, that I try to be, at least), and for that, I highly doubt I will ever forget you…



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