You Know What I Mean

You know the feeling. I know the feeling, the whole of the fucking world knows the feeling.

It’s ironic really, everyone blabs about ‘The One’; the dizzy spells you get when in their presence, the irrepressible smile that tugs at your lips as they enter a room. Yet ‘The One’ remains oblivious to the connection so fantasised and prophesised – situational irony if I am not mistaken. I probably am though, considering my intelligence seems to disappear when thinking about ‘The One’.

It hurts doesn’t it? When you realise they are unattainable, your mind automatically assumes that it is because you are not good enough. Next to them I feel about three inches tall, and ugly at that. Everything about them is flawless, though they brush it off saying “Everyone has flaws”.

Not them though. Never them.

What do you do when they want you to set them up with someone else? It’s easy, you stifle down your own jealousy and longing and help them out, wanting them to be happy, even though that means you are condemned to feel insignificant for a long time.

You avoid the happy couple when they are together, burning with repressed jealousy when you notice the simple gestures, like holding hands or a sensual smile.

Suicide is not an option, as then you will never see their face again, never hear the laugh. But you are dead on the inside, your love discarded and your self-esteem shattered.

Others say “That’s Life” and other unhelpful comments to dig you out of the rut. Doesn’t work, it never works.

Life is a serious of tests they say, well I failed, miserably at that, don’t you fail as well.

…………………..

Ouch I’m bitter, hope someone out there could relate to this.

P.O.D