My unrequited love

I was turning inside out. I could hardly breathe, I was in a prison of anxiety, and there was no breaking out. The entire week I couldn’t sleep or eat properly. I yearned for him, I was bruised in his absence and every passing moment without him was like added salt to the open wound. I woke up in the middle of the night after having had a dream about him. I had been having nightmares involving him all week, sometimes it was me looking for him in a maze, and sometimes it was me plucking out shards of glass from all over my body. This particular dream, he had locked himself in a room, and I wasn’t allowed in.He had promised to text, but that text never came. I needed to see him, I needed to feel him. In my hopeless desperation and weakness for him, I invited myself over. He had been painting his house and I had offered to lend a hand, I would have taken any pretense just to get a glimpse of him. The couches were moved to the center of the room. I finally had him next to me; I finally had his hand in mine. For me, his embrace was as natural and pure as it could get, anything else with anyone else couldn’t even compare. I wanted to be let in. I wanted to peek into his world. So I asked questions; but his answers always followed long, painful pauses and struggles of finding the least hurtful words. I demanded honesty. He had been in two previous relationships, both with women. A 4-year long one with Amy with whom he had almost gotten married and a 2-year long with Christine that didn’t quite work out. He had been single for over 2 years.Me: Trying to gauge where you are with us, what do you feel about us?Him: I am not ready/looking for a relationship, I do like hanging out with you.Me: You’re not looking for a relationship, with a man, or a woman, or either?Him: I have been thinking a lot about this. Earlier this year I fooled around with a guy, a friend of a friend, it wasn’t dating (like us); it was just physical; we would do things that’d be the end of it. It doesn’t feel right for me (dating a guy) and that’s not fair to you. I don’t feel the way I should.I embraced him, it was the rightest thing I’d ever experienced; how could he think it didn’t feel right? How could I possibly be the only person for whom every single physical touch meant our souls were touching?Me: This feels real to me, do you not feel anything? May be you are not allowing yourself to. I am also torn. Is it unfair to you if I insert myself when really you need your space and are questioning and trying to figure yourself out?Perhaps I was in denial, may be even selfish. I wanted him to feel the same thing I did. But the reality was dawning on me. I asked for a glass of water.I quickly reorganized the couch so we could lay there. That’s really all I had longed for all week, to be in his embrace.Me: The first few months when you dated Amy, how did you feel?Him: I wanted to be with her all the time.Me: You don’t feel like that about me, do you?Long, painful pause, he struggled to find words again.Me: But you can’t compare; each interaction is unique in its own way.Him: Yes, you’re totally right, I shouldn’t compare. But I just don’t feel the way I should.Me: We’ve only been hanging out for a month; you can’t expect to feel a certain way in just a month!Long pause again. I couldn’t stop embracing him. Holding him in my arms was feeding my soul. At that moment it was more important than the most basic of human needs like food and shelter. In fact, all week I had craved that more than anything else.Me: Please let me in. I want to be here for you. Who knows what’ll happen, worse we’ll spend some more time and nothing comes of it we’ll just move on, be friends and look back in our time as fond memories. Or, we’ll fall in love. (At this point, he was taken aback, I shouldn’t have mentioned the word love; it’s a scary one).Him: Yeah, I do want to keep hanging out. I like you as a person.“I like you as a person”, really? I had held my tongue until then. Enough was enough. I had already given myself up. I had displaced myself with him as the center of my universe. He meant the world to me. I reached in for a kiss, he stiffened his lips. It was the ultimate cruelty.Me: So when do you want to hang out next?We talked logistics. I was going away for New Year’s weekend and was transitioning to a new schedule at work. He had plans for the weekend. He really made no effort to make time.Me: At first you texted me quite often. You were the one who messaged me on linked in, gave me your phone number. You initiated us to hang out. But lately, it has been only me. Am I right in feeling that way?Him: Yes, you’re right, I haven’t really been initiating. You seem to be really into me, and….(long pause to find the right words)…that freaked me out.Me: I feel like I’m just a fill-in for your empty time slots, you make no attempt or effort to see me, do you?My alarm went off; it was time for me to go to work. I got up, put on my jacket and shoes. He walked me to the door and gave me a hug.Him: I don’t want this to be the last time we hang out.Me: Then act like it.After a week of utter desperation there was a tiny flame of empowerment as I drove to work. We are prisoners of our own devices; his was impermeable. I had taken all my guard off, I had helplessly become vulnerable. But I believe vulnerabilities are empowering, perhaps that’s why I am deciding to wear mine as armor. The dwarf from Game of Thrones has a point. This will pass, I hope for my own sake.I come to the office and it’s a mausoleum. His ghost is everywhere; within me and in the cube next to me. For almost a year we used to see each other every morning. We would exchange hellos and smiles. It would have been some story to tell. I can’t seem to escape him.My friend saw the exasperation in me as I walked in the office, “Are you Ok?” He asked. For a second I was in my own head, but I looked up at his face and saw it covered in rashes. “Are you Ok?” I asked. I made fun of him for being a Vietnamese-Australian dude allergic to shrimp. I made fun of myself. That's all I can do now.