The Rush of a Nanosecond

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is just me, pouring my heart out. There really is no form, and that's why I love this one so much. Because I hope that, once done reading, one can zoom out, see the writing as a whole, and reread, keeping in mind the timing presented in the last sentence. In my personal opinion, the timing here is everything.

Submitted: November 02, 2011

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Submitted: November 02, 2011

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And I can’t recall a time of ever wanting something more. I glance across the dimly lit auditorium, and catch a glimpse of him. A glimpse of what could have been. But no. It’s not me he chose. It was never me. Always her. I can’t help but wonder why I’m so upset. I never had a chance. That’s the problem with love. It doesn’t give you choices. You can’t decide you won’t get your hopes up, your heart decides that. You can’t choose not to feel this way when he looks into your eyes. You can’t decide you want things to be simple, to make sense. They never do. That’s the problem with love. It takes control completely, it begs to be spoken but chokes back the words, longs to be felt but shies away, tears you up, takes control of your heart, and becomes ever-present in your mind. The more you fight it the more power it has. The harder you try to feel something, the less anything means. And worst of all, it begs the question: how could one person feel so much, and the other nothing at all? How is it that I can look into his eyes and see so much passion and emotion, and yet none of it is meant for me? How can I feel this way, this total, constant, overpowering want, and he hardly even notices I’m here? Why is it that what I could never tell him, my thoughts are screaming for him to see? I just want him to know how I feel. It’s far better to put in an incredible effort, have him truly see who you are, and still feel nothing, than to hide your feelings and hide yourself, and let someone else steal him away. And even though all I want is to have his arms around me and be looking into his eyes and have him care about me and ask about my day and smile with all his heart when he sees me in the hall and hold my hand and just be mine, he still sees her, the one who will never care for him - could never care for him - as I do. The idea is constant, too big of a temptation for anything else to even cross my mind. And just as I finally feel like I might be okay for a little while, I see that perfect, warm, happy, friendly, funny, goofy, loving, carefree, charming smile, and whatever wound might have had a chance to heal reopens, all the emotions pouring back out and overwhelming me. And the fact that I can feel all of this at once, looking into his eyes for just a split second, and pray for him to feel it too, and have it go completely and utterly unnoticed, is what hurts more than anything else.


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