My Unrequited Love

This week marks a year since the day she walked into my life. She walked right back out, but I expected no less. 2 months later she came back in on her own volition. This time she stayed and a month later I experienced her as I knew I wanted the moment I laid eyes on her. I should have know then what it was, but I was hurt, jaded, and living a lie as a player involved with a few women that I wasn't in love with. I’ve never lied to her. In fact, a day hasn’t passed that I haven’t thought about her. I’ve never wanted anyone more than her since that first day, and I haven't had anyone else in my heart the way she was since she left me standing in the cold. From the first time I truly experienced her, I was hooked like an addict to their drug. Except my drug was love and she was my Helen of Troy, my Mona Lisa, my Aphrodite, my Oshun, my morning and my evening sun. For women that question do players feel, I am living proof that love and loss is what makes men players. That is why we choose not to care, to play games, to lie, and involve ourselves casually with multiple women. It guards our heart, keeps us safe, and protects us from falling and making just any woman the center of our world. We guard the keys to our hearts with the fiercest devotion, the same devotion some men are fortunate enough to use to protect their daughters and their family. All men experience this heartbreak once and most promise themselves never again. I am not most men and I’ve never wanted to be a player. That's the funny thing about love, when some men fall, we fall forever. We never forget the woman we fell in love with. When we fall, we never give up. We remember her smell, her taste, her feel, her smile, and her eyes. We remember how it felt being with her. We remember her laugh, the face she made when she came, and the face she made when she cried. We never wanted to hurt her, but despite all her strength we never understood her vulnerabilities. Our heart never stops loving her even if our follow through is off the mark or our mind convinces us to finally let go and move on. We carry this to the grave because we never forget her and how she made us feel being with her. Countless times I have woken up and gone to bed thinking about only one woman. Often it wasn't even the woman lying next to me. But sex didn't dissipate my feelings; it just helped me bottle them up so I wouldn't walk around hurting so much. My beloved chose not to be there beside me and every new woman helped me feel less and less until I could act without regard for her or myself. I could bury my feelings and my love so deep that only one person could ever hope to bring me salvation. But she never did. The women we love never understand the power of forgiveness. We may act in hate, displaying bitter resentment, but the stronger and more negative we react to her, the deeper our love was. A woman understanding this can pull us aside and with the gentlest of touches, caress our face, hold our hand, look into our eyes, and with powerful words say that she's sorry. Sorry she never called. Sorry she never thought of us. Sorry for the fights, the hurtful words, the silence and the ignoring. Sorry she couldn't be completely honest with us. Sorry she wasn't there for us when we needed her most. Sorry she didn't comprehend our actions. Sorry she couldn't understand the magnitude of our despair and make all our hurt go away. Sorry she involved herself with other men who didn't who didn't see her the way we saw her and didn’t love her the way we did. Sorry she never understood how profound, how deep, how pure, and how true our love was for her and how she instead marginalized our feelings for her. Sorry she took that love for granted. Sorry she didn't love us in return. Sorry she wasn’t a better woman to us. So I have spent many months now moving on and letting go. You can't choose who you fall in love with which is why so many men choose to never fall. But with her, I felt something that I have never felt with anyone else. So I will bottle up my feelings until the bottle collects dust and sits in the dark recesses of my soul where it will remain hidden and dormant until my dying breath. Hopefully, I'll go a day, a week, maybe even a month, and God help me a year not remembering where that shelf is. This is men's secret. This is how we love; this is how I love, with everything I have. So as a year passes and more milestones and memories fill my thoughts, I can muster one absolute truth from all that has transpired: I love you Cristmelda, and I always will. You can’t decide who you fall for but sometimes no matter how you feel, all the love you have to give simply isn't enough. So the bottle goes back on the shelf where it will be lost forever, if I’m lucky.