October 26th
The ink feels thick and heavy tonight, like my own blood, slowly congealing. I should probably be sleeping. It’s almost midnight and the moon is just a sliver hanging in the inky sky, mocking my own fragile hope. But sleep is a luxury I can't afford when my thoughts are this loud, this chaotic. Tonight, it's all about him. Again.
It’s been two years, hasn’t it? Two years of watching him, of listening to his laughter, of memorizing the way his hair falls across his forehead when he’s concentrating. Two years of this… this silent, excruciating devotion. It’s a sickness, Sarah calls it. Obsession. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I am a little crazy for caring so much about someone who barely sees me.
He was talking to Maya today, laughing, that low rumble that makes my chest ache. She's so effortless, so radiant, the kind of girl who lights up a room just by existing. And he, of course, adores her. How could he not? They talk about books, about art, about things I only dream of understanding. They connect on levels I can't even fathom. And I’m left on the sidelines, a faded photograph in the background of their vibrant, technicolor world.
It hurts, God, it hurts so much. It’s a constant, dull throb in my heart. It's like having a broken rib, a wound that never quite heals, no matter how many times I try to ignore it. Sometimes, I feel like I’m drowning in all these feelings, suffocating under the weight of my own unrequited love.
November 10th
I saw him today. Across the library, lost in the pages of a worn-out book, a faint smile playing on his lips. He looked so peaceful, so…him. And I just wanted to walk over and tell him everything. Everything I feel, every secret, every desperate plea that claws at my throat. But of course, I didn’t. What if he recoiled? What if he finally saw me, the pathetic girl who can’t let go? The thought is like a punch to the gut.
I know I should move on. I know this isn't healthy. My friends have been telling me for months. "There are other guys, you know?" Sarah chirped yesterday, oblivious to the fact that there is only him. They don’t understand the way he occupies every corner of my mind, how his presence is like air; invisible but completely necessary for my very existence.
The worst part is that I don't even blame him. It's not his fault that he doesn't feel the same. It's just… unfair. It's unfair that I have to carry this heavy anchor of love with me, that I have to witness his happiness mirrored in someone else's eyes. It's the cruelest kind of torture, watching your heart beat for someone who doesn’t even know it exists.
December 2nd
The Christmas decorations are up everywhere, bright and joyous displays of love and togetherness. It feels like a cruel joke. I feel so alone, so utterly detached from the festive cheer that seems to infect everyone around me. All I see are the happy couples holding hands, the families laughing, and I just want to disappear.
Last night, I dreamt of him. We were walking on a beach, the sand warm beneath our feet, the ocean a soft hum. He was smiling at me, really smiling, and his eyes held something I've only ever imagined, something close to… understanding. Then, I woke up. And the ache was worse than ever. Reality is such a bitter pill.
I feel like I’m losing myself in him, becoming defined entirely by unrequited feelings. I'm fading, slowly turning invisible. It’s like I’m a ghost, haunting the edges of his life, forever yearning for a connection that will never be.
....
