^_^

I write like I'm in love. And most of the time, I am - just a little bit.

[nothanksbi]

Moving on...?

I don't know, I feel tired of this whole thing now. It's been six months since I confessed to you and you told me you don't see me that way; seven since I first got my crush on you. You're such a lovely human being it's hard to move on simply because you're not interested in me, you know? I still keep looking for your name in who saw my Instagram stories, take extra interest in the reels I get shown that you've liked already, daydream about what life would have been like if you...you know. But now, it's high time I just let myself be.

I admit, you've never led me on. And it's not like this was my most intense love interest yet. It was just...I mean, every crush I've had so far has been a conscious improvement upon the last one. After you, all I want in my next one that you didn't have is that they're not so deeply affected by patriarchy that they're not even comfortable with themselves, with their own emotions. I want them to be aware, accepting of themself, and not shy away from something new just because it's traditionally associated with another gender. Of course, I still thank you in my heart for showing me this could also be one of my standards, but that doesn't take away the fact that when your object of affection has been so good, so wholesome, it's hard to imagine there will be someone better.

Now, I often wonder if I'll really end up unmarried with a mansion full of books, and pets, and family and friends that come to stay. Some days that feels almost welcome, like that's what I've been working up to all my life. Some days, though, it feels like I'm just going deeper and deeper into a ditch that's only going to stop once I reach the inner core of the Earth and melt and become one with it. I don't know. Maybe a little bit of passion and a bunch of stupid crushes might do me some good right now...ah, I can only hope, but at least I can still hope.

[nothanksbi]

Getting over someone is so weird. Quite literally the equivalent of a 1500's painting of a storm at sea. You look at it from within, it's inches away from destroying you, consuming you, removing all traces of your existence from the world. But you look at it from outside, you wonder why you were ever so worried about it, and whether it is a metaphor for love, life, existence, eternity.

Some of them you've almost grown up with; you see them fall in love time and time again, with one person after another, not even seeing you as someone to spend the rest of their life with. Not in that way, at least. They love you, they've always loved you, they wouldn't give you up for the world. Platonically.

Some you witness finally falling in love with themselves, with life. You remember why you fell for them in the first place, you catch yourself smiling, you wonder how long until they finally adopt a child like they always wanted to. They would be a wonderful parent, you think. You imagine yourself being with them when they do it, even though you know it's not going to happen. You sigh and try to let them go...for the millionth time.

Some become a faraway dream, the details of which you no longer remember. You may have been together for months, or years, yet now all that remains is the beginning, the end, and the blur in between. You wonder how they're doing now, whether they've finally worked on themselves, whether they've found love, whether they're treating them right if they have. You silently thank them for treating you that way; thanks to them, you no longer let anyone treat you that way again, and as the years pass by, the thanks deepen...but they'll never get to know.

Some become your most unexpected friends, and they probably love themselves a little bit more now thanks to you. You wonder whether they were always this soft, or whether it was something you made them realise was a possibility. They pamper you when they see you, they tell you everything about their life, they tease you endlessly when you tell them about yours. But they never knew that you...well. So you can't really blame them, can you?

And of course, the ones you almost forgot you ever had a crush on. Very rarely do your paths cross, even in this chronically online world. You made sure of it a long time ago, and now you don't even think about them. When you do come across them, you wonder why you ever liked them in the first place. Still, of course, you wish them well and just..move on with your life.

That's the thing, isn't it? They matter. They always do. It's no longer the same, of course; you might still like them, you might even still be in love with them, but you no longer want them because of that one thing you refuse to bow down to, that thing that made you realise just how different they were from their image you had in mind. It was never about right or wrong, good or bad. Simply about what you had to offer, and what they had to offer, and whether you're willing to wait long enough for the right person to show up and make it all make sense.

[nothanksbi]

What is this feeling I'm feeling right now? A deep yearning to have someone to call my own, to spend the rest of my life with them, but always accompanied by the assumption that nobody actually sees me that way. A desire to be seen as lovable, desirable, worthy of being pursued, but never actually being able to differentiate between people being nice and people giving me hints. Indeed, the last part hasn't happened much in the last few years so it may be that I'm losing my ability to detect hints in the first place. But that's not what's frustrating me so.

I tell myself a million times, "you don't need a hundred people to like you, you just want one to love you," and everytime I say it to myself it becomes harder for me to believe I'll find that person. I even develop crushes for people, romanticise the smallest interactions we have, hope they feel the same as I do, sometimes even ask them about it. It's just that so far I've always been wrong and I don't see myself meeting many new people who could be that person for me in the near future.

And then of course there's the impossible crush. You think they're all that, you think they'd be so perfect for you, and once the rose-tinted glasses are off you realise the ethical issues, the unavoidable consequences, the ridiculousness of it all. Thankfully none of them have ever liked me back, because let's be honest, I haven't really had it in me so far to take such a relationship all the way. And, thankfully, I've always found something so fundamentally wrong with them that the crush ends as suddenly as it had begun - even more suddenly, sometimes.

And that gets me wondering. Am I raising my standards or sabotaging my chances at love? Am I afraid of rejection before I even ask or is it safe to assume they're never really into me? Are they disappearing because I wrote about them or did they just not like me enough? Does my person exist or am I destined to spend the rest of my life dreaming about them, hoping for them, wishing they would just show up one day and everything would be alright, even if nothing's really wrong right now?

Longing and late nights are closer friends than I thought.

[nothanksbi]

Two days. The excitement, the attraction, the feeling of "we're meant to be" lasted two days. And then we talked about sex, how you'd love to do it and how I've never done it before and how we'd both love to try anyway. The moment after I agreed, showed my enthusiasm, I realised...I don't really want to do it just yet. I'm not ready. I don't even do it with myself. I realised I had agreed too quickly, this was moving too fast, something wasn't right. In that moment, the butterflies I had for you died.

Still, I knew objectively that I had liked you and wanted to know what you had in mind, for the long run. So I asked, and it turned out you never intended to date me because we'd be in different countries, or at least cities, for at least the foreseeable future. In that moment, my heart broke. You knew what intimacy of this kind meant to me, how hard it'd be, how much weight it would have in my life. When I do it, I want it to mean something, like "we belong together," not like "I wish I could stay." You knew you weren't going to stay and you still asked me if we should do it before you went back. And I, for some reason, agreed. Did you get carried away too, like I did? Or did you think sex wasn't that big a deal, nothing but a bodily thing while our souls had already connected? Or did you just want to have some fun?

Whichever it was, I know it was a two-way conversation. You shouldn't have started it, and I shouldn't have carried it on - the thing about sex, I mean. You did say it would have been a no-brainer if we were in the same city, but what should I do now that I no longer remember what it was like to feel the same way about you? Is there anything to be done anyway?

[nothanksbi]

Hey, you. I never thought I'd actually meet someone I'd like on a dating app, but here we are. We've been talking for, what, months now? You've been so patient about my not texting you for weeks, and you've been so enthusiastic in your responses whenever I did text you. It's too bad you had to shift to a different state for work, and it's too bad I'm planning to shift to a different country for quality of life - I would love to keep meeting you again. And again. For a long time.

We finally met for the first time two days ago, and it was nothing short of wonderful. I had no nervousness before the date, I was actually quite excited for it, and on the way home I reflected on the date looking for any red flags we might need to address but I found none. On the contrary, I found things which were more than just the bare minimum, things I would count as proper green flags. You adding my birthday to your calendar, forever, for example. And your interest and understanding of philosophy, physics, and accessibility, because it was deep enough to actually teach me something new. It was adorable how you said, "Chocolate is a round taste, mint is a sharp taste, they aren't supposed to go together!" because that is exactly how I'd describe those tastes - too exact to be a coincidence. And how we were twinning, unplanned, wearing a colour that wasn't black or blue. You know, when you were talking about how humans weren't evolved to learn probability but had to put considerable effort for it, I found myself just staring at you, your voice almost fading in the background, the way they show in the movies - except I was listening. You seemed so beautiful - your eyes lighting up with excitement, our conversation scratching just the right itch in my brain. I realise I never had a crush on you, but in that moment, it felt like I might just have one soon.

Of course, I've been thinking about you nonstop since the moment we separated after the date. And I told you that yesterday, and we talked about so many things, even though it was on text, and I still can't stop thinking about you. I decided to pause my dating profile yesterday, too - I would love to delete it, but my friends would want me to wait for a little while, and though I don't agree with them, I do respect their opinions. Anyway. We even told each other we really liked each other and I just knew this one's going to last for a long time...and by this one, obviously, I mean you, I mean us. There's gonna be an "us", and I hope and pray it turns out to be exactly what we both need and want.

Anyway, can't wait to go see your Instagram stories again for the sole purpose of replying to one and initiating conversation again. (Yes, I've been smiling the whole time I've been writing this.)

[nothanksbi]

I talked to you today, and I finally asked. I was worried, you know, that the conversation was going to be awkward, that I'd want to run away from it while I'm in the middle of it, that I wouldn't know what to do with myself if you said no. Surprise, surprise, everything's okay. You said no, and that was that - it was easy beyond any scenario I had prepared for before we got on the call.

Of course, I'm not mad at you anymore...I don't think I ever was, but I was definitely frustrated because I was never sure. Blame my friends for filling my head with what-ifs and maybes. It was simple as simple can be, but it sure as hell hasn't been easy. Well, now that we cleared it all up, my heart feels so much lighter, like a friend from long ago met me and we talked for hours and now I'm sending them off, hoping to see them again soon. I haven't experienced peace like this in a very long time...I suppose meaningful, purposeful conversations have this effect, especially when they're all about "tell me your side of the story, I wanna know!"

If you did end up reading all I've written about you, I hope you won't judge me for the things I assumed and the things I wished for. I also hope we both end up finding the love we have been waiting for, even if it means travelling to the ends of the earth for it. After all, being loved and finding the love you seek is supposed to be the most amazing feeling in the world, isn't it?

[nothanksbi]

After days, weeks, months of convincing myself that there's not enough reason to go after you, I tried to do it again. I guess I've still not accepted the possible fact that you don't like me...and I hate that I have to guess. I want to ask you, do you like me? Have you ever liked me? Just two questions, just four and five words respectively. Why are they so hard to ask? More importantly, do I dare to know your response?

Yesterday, I told you I was sick. You told me to take care, and reacted with a heart to my text when I said I will. Today, I told you I just wanted to talk, nothing about work. You said you were with your sister, but you kept responding...first normal, then formal, then tiny replies, then such a dead response I couldn't have continued the conversation on that note if I was at gunpoint. Why do I have to be so confused by your responses, why can't I just ask, and why does it have to be so damn awkward between us? Is it so bad to be liked by me? It must be that, since you already know I've liked you for more than six months now...right?

[nothanksbi]

Thinking about that time I told my crush he's a man simply because he replied politely to a risky text I sent him. (He's okay, he's got potential, I'm just finally accepting it was the bare minimum considering he probably wasn't even interested.)

(he probably still isn't but who's gonna ask him?)

[nothanksbi]

I didn't think you'd actually call me to tell me what you felt about the gift I made for you, and the letter I gave you with it. I know you told me you were planning to, I just didn't know you were serious.

Funnily enough, I have been thinking about you a lot these days. Do you like me back, do I want to continue liking you, should I continue liking you? I even almost asked you during this last phone call...did you figure out what I wanted to ask without me ever actually saying it? If you did, I guess your telling me not to ask you "the thing I wanted to ask you" was answer enough. Again, funnily enough, my body did the weird thing again. The thing where it tingles so hard I know something is off. My head was all dizzy, I could feel my heartbeat from my gut to my throat, my stomach was all queasy. I couldn't eat my dinner as I was waiting for you to call. I couldn't calm down, I couldn't calm down, I couldn't calm down. You may not know, but this was my body's way of telling me you're not good for me...and I plan to listen.

I know, it doesn't make much sense. You're one of the kindest people I've ever met. You may be nothing special, as my friends would put it, but you're not exactly someone I'd like to run away from. I also know my body has been loyal to me about who is good for me and who isn't. It's always known before I have. Honestly, you tell me. Should I listen to it, or if you dare to confess, forget about it and choose you? What would you want me to do?

[nothanksbi]

Some days it's easier to act like you're a friend. Even if I accidentally flirt with you while talking to you, it's easy enough to cover up sensibly. You tease me, I tease you back, I challenge you, you declare that I win - and it's easy enough to tell myself: I was smiling because I was winning, because it was fun.

Today is not such a day. Neither was yesterday.

A tinge of longing keeps hanging at the back of my mind, like it's about to fall off a cliff but refuses to just slip and let go. I ask myself, do I long for you or for the satisfaction of having a lover? Do I long for you or for love? Do I long for you or for the version of you I created in my head? Of course, these are questions I've asked myself about the others before you, too. And the answer has always been, "both." I long for a lover that has your kindness, warmth, ready wit. I long for a love that is simple, clear, calm; a love that you seem capable of. I long for the version of you that you show me, the version of you I have seen, the version of you that might just be the version you really are. Maybe I am too desperate, too lonely, too impatient, too enthusiastic, too straightforward...but haven't I always been?

The question is, do you think I'm too much? Or not enough? Or lovely but not equal to the person of your dreams? Or you've simply never seen me that way, even though I told you I liked you all those months ago?

How many more of "you" must I go through, before I find which one is meant to stay? How much longer before I give up and do something I might regret? When does it end? When does it end? When does it end, so my heart can finally be at peace?

[nothanksbi]

Hey, wasn't I supposed to stop liking you by now? Why did you have to go ahead and make prolonged eye contact with me three times in two hours, then? Of course, three times means something because it's more than zero, right?

It hurts so bad when I look at how things are right now between us. You hardly look at me at all. You don't even talk to me, no more phone calls, no more soft hellos and joking around. One accidental eye contact when something funny happened and we laughed while looking at each other a few days ago - I don't even remember what happened - but that's it. You know I'm around but you don't even say hi, our texts have turned completely dry, I decided I wouldn't pursue you anymore but I can't stop looking and I don't know why. Maybe I'm desperate. Maybe I'm not ready to accept that you don't like me. Maybe I've accepted it but I hate that that's how it is, and I'm hoping something will change. I used to keep talking about how good it felt to be around you; now I keep talking about how you completely ignore the fact that I exist when I'm physically around. Unless you need to interact with me, of course.

Earlier today I saw you hanging out with your buddy again. Yes, the one I keep hoping isn't your boyfriend. You two kept hanging around, you facing the other way, him facing me. Or the crowd in general, because I was in the front row at the corner of the crowd. You were there, but he came to show me where to go. You were there, but he said bye when I was going back home. You didn't say congratulations when I got felicitated this time - no running around the ground this time, no calling out my name and taking a minute to talk. No smile, no handshake, no small talk, no complaining about the Department. Hell, like I said, you didn't even look at me today. And now I'm heartbroken all over again, pretending I'm on the verge of being heartbroken so I can still give myself the illusion that I am still in control.

Once, just once, I need you to tell me to my face what you really feel about me. But do I dare to ask? And do you dare to confess?

[nothanksbi]

Fine, I admit it.

"Love is kind, love is patient, love is..." Blah blah blah. Not when you're desperately craving for it. Not when you see the person you like considering other people as a much more "realistic" option than you. Not when you hardly know the person and they do things which make you swoon and you can never really know if they were actually directed at you or if they're just a very nice person. Not when it's taking you all of your effort to remind yourself that it's actually about the closeness, the relationship, not about this person. Not when you're not even sure if it is love, in a world that refuses to agree on a single definition of love.

The canyon is back again. He casually mentioned dating apps today as something he has been wanting to try out, and I am pissed. I know he's not at fault, I know he isn't obligated to like me back. But right now, I feel like I don't want to see him ever again, even though I'm going to see him in about eight hours.

So all those sweet gestures, those unnecessarily long phone calls where we constantly drifted off-topic multiple times, those times when you waited for me when you absolutely didn't have to, none of those actually meant anything personal, then. In the romantic sense, of course. And you continue to do those things, knowing that I like you.

I don't know if you know, but every time you do it I am filled with new hope. Hope that maybe you are looking at me after all. Hope that maybe waiting for this semester to end isn't such a bad idea after all. Hope that you won't be such a bad idea after all. And more than every once in a while, you do something that makes it undeniably clear that the fact that I like you doesn't even matter, never did, and probably never will.

Fine, then. I'll go away from you, as much as I can.

[nothanksbi]

I've been meaning to write about you again. More honestly, a friend has been telling me to write about you again. I'd love to do that, of course, yet you confuse me so much I'm never sure whether I'm writing because I like you or because I want you to like me back.

Either way, here I am again, because you called me tonight. Once again, it was something you could have told me over text. Once again, you called instead and we ended up talking for much, much longer than necessary. You were so tired it was obvious in your first "hello" - and I'm sort of glad you didn't try to hide it from me. You were so human I wanted to pull you through the phone and hug you tight. But of course, that is not realistic just yet.

So there you were, talking to me on your way to the stationary shop. I pictured you walking with one hand in the pocket of your jeans, the other holding your phone as you talked to me, looking at the road in front of you as you secretly smiled (and then freely laughed) at the things that I said. I pictured you with your hair soft and slightly ruffled, your glasses still sitting on your nose like they had been all day, your t-shirt - white with a pocket on the left, I don't know why - loosely hugging your body, your gait unhurried, like you wanted to stay a little longer, like you didn't want to reach the stationary shop after all. Of course, I might be wrong and you might still be in your formal attire, tired from a long day of work. Of course, this conversation might be just another conversation you've had with someone today. But I like the way it looks in my head, and I like the way it feels to believe for a second that it could be true.

And then...something happened. I shared a moment from my life before, silence followed, and you decided to end the conversation. I worry whether I said too much, or made you feel too much, or you simply got that work call you had been waiting for. I worry I may have pushed you away, just like those others, even though right now you are much more to me than any of them has ever been. We haven't met in more than a week, and I worry it might be a few more before we meet again. And that makes me wonder - do you call me because you're too lazy to text, or because you miss the sound of my voice? Do your conversations with everyone last as long as they do with me? Are we ever going to talk about us after all?

Tell me, what's it gonna be?

[nothanksbi]

I'm too scared to ask you whether you like me, you know.

I've thought about so many possibilities. I ask and you say no, and we have to spend the rest of the semester being awkward around each other - and you're one of the only people I see regularly. I ask and you say no, and I recover from the heartbreak but eventually you do like me, and this time your heart gets broken. I ask and you say no, and you're lying, and we both break in a way we don't know how to come back from. I ask and you say yes, and we can't get together, and it just breaks my heart to have this glass wall between us, and you're the one that got away. I ask and you say yes, and we get together, but we can't tell anyone or you lose things you've worked so hard to earn. I ask and you say yes, and we manage to get together when the grey time ends, and it's time for me to go far, far away.

I don't know why, but I keep imagining things between us ending in doom. I know that cannot possibly be a list of literally every single possibility for us, but the part of the list I see is frightening. Maybe real life holds something better for us; maybe we do get together sooner or later; maybe we don't, and it turns out we were meant to raise each other's standards and then just go our separate ways in life. Either way, the place I am right now feels like it's trembling - and if the trembling doesn't stop soon, I'm going to lose control.

True, I barely know you, and you barely know me. Also true, people often fall in love at first sight and get better futures than people who spend years together before getting married. Do you know what I mean? Does any of this make sense? All I want is for you to just tell me. What is it? Do you like me or not? Do you like me or not? Don't make me ask - can you just tell me? Or is it too much to ask?

[nothanksbi]

You look at me like you know it's going to cause trouble; you look at me when we laugh like it's one of those things in life you never want to let go. You look at me when you talk to the entire group, then you realise you've been looking at me for too long and break eye contact, just to come back to me in a second or two. You look at me when I talk, when I laugh, when I crack the most pathetic joke you've ever heard in your life. You look at me when I'm not looking - I hope you do, because my friend tells me it's true. You look at me like you're curious, like you want to know every detail. You call me instead of text, then stay for much longer than necessary, just because you want to, just because I want to, just because it's nice.

And then when we're alone, you don't look at me and it's the most infuriating thing in the world. You don't say a word yet you match my pace when we go to the parking lot. You don't look at me when it's just us in the elevator - there's this tension in the air between us that seems impossible to tolerate. You don't look at me when you tell me to remind you of something in case you forget, and you always forget, and I always remind you.

You look at me when I call you, but not when we cross paths in the university. You look at me when you tell everyone what happened, why you're sick, but not when someone else reveals these things about you. You look at me when I stare at you because I want to tell you something - you always know - but not when it's time to go.

You look at me less than I dream of; you look at me more than you'd care to admit. And yet, every single time...

...you look at me, and I come undone.

[nothanksbi]

I'm so tired of the canyon between us. I'm so tired of the ambiguity. I'm so tired that you won't say a word, at least just yet, at least for a few more months.

Yesterday I saw you looking with curiosity the whole time as I talked to someone while you were there. Today I saw you just enter a room as I left, then enter the corridor as I left. Yesterday I saw you pausing for a split second when you found me in the classroom, but I couldn't look too long or I'd forget what I was writing. Today you almost missed me and didn't even slow down to say hi - so quick I wondered if you wanted to run and hide. What do I believe? You know what I feel. Do you understand? Did I make it too simple, did I not let you in deep enough to make you understand?

My friend says you've definitely got a thing for me, you're just too shy and bound by responsibility to show it out loud. Should I believe her? Should I believe the girl who sees you more than I do, who accidentally matches outfits with you all the time, who charms everyone she meets in a heartbeat? Or should I believe the voice in my head, which tells me I'm being so silly, so obsessed, such a teenager? Shut up, I'm an adult. I've tried so hard not to start wondering if you like me back; it would be unfair - I never really asked you in the first place. But is it a crime to hope?

I don't want to go down the rabbit hole of "has he seen my stories yet? Did he laugh when he saw them? Will he remember what he's seen in my stories, or is he just tap-tap-tapping through?" You're not that guy. You're the nice guy. You pay attention, you remember, you care. Of course you saw them, of course you laughed, of course you'll remember when I ask you - you did when I asked you the last time. That's not the point.

The point is...well. You tell me.

[nothanksbi]

I smile as I write this: You used to be so playful around me, when it was just the two of us. Something's changed, hasn't it?

I've seen you catch me looking at you, and again when I look back to confirm you were indeed looking at me. I've instinctively turned to you when our supervisor brought that mug to lunch and kept filling it up with sambar over and over again - and more than once you've instinctively turned to me too, and we've shared a smile that says everything. I haven't seen you look at me when I called my mother to ask if I can stay longer, but I've felt your gaze on me and your anticipation while you waited for her verdict with me. I've noticed you don't talk first anymore - that one's on me, I'm always trying to fill the silence so you don't find out how I feel while always wishing you did. I've noticed that you listen, you always listen, even when it looks like you didn't. (Yes, I know you laughed when I said "whaaat, that was such a good bad joke!") I've noticed you get all awkward when you couldn't open the fancy lid of the water bottle near me, then you couldn't close it when you were done, and again when you wanted the paan sitting in front of me and didn't know how to ask. I don't even need to say your name when I want to get your attention - I turn to look at you, and I have you less than a second later. You walk me back outside to my car, even though your bike waits for you in the other direction. I'm trying to be realistic, to not read into things too much...but I'm right this time, am I not?

You remind me of the ocean, when it's low tide. Hardly anything on your face, but you're probably burning with life inside. I know, the situations in which we meet don't allow you to show yourself too much. And yet, every once in a while, your eyes meet mine and I can't help the smile spreading on my face anymore. Next time we meet, I'm planning to not be so afraid anymore, to just give you a glimpse of how I feel. Will you take me deeper into your ocean too?