When I was younger, I always thought there was something romantic and beautiful about fighting for the one you love and trying to win them back. But as I sit here, broken and lost, I have come to realize that there is absolutely nothing amazing about trying to convince someone to love you back.

When I think about all the people I tried to convince to love me back only two wreck on the inside of my brain like a car crash because you were too busy texting him back. The memory I have of her symbolizes the perfect summer day with you best friend. She was soft but all so mean. She was full of anger and you heard it come out when you least expected it. But she was more than her anger, she was everything to me. The way she would laugh was pleasing to hear. The warmth of her and the summer air collided. I never admired anyone like the way I admired her. She made me believe in soul mates, to quote, "Sometimes you meet someone, and it’s so clear so immediately that the two of you, on some level, belong together. As lovers, or as friends, or as family, or as something entirely different. You just work, whether you’re in love or creating things together or foxhole buddies or partners in crime. It’s so clear, right off the bat, that this is what you’re supposed to be doing, that this is what you’re for. You meet these people throughout your life, out of nowhere, under the strangest of circumstances, and they help you make a life. I don’t know if that makes me believe in coincidence, or fate, or sheer blind luck, but. It definitely makes me believe in something." I still think about her everyday. The way she would find herself wrapped up in a heating blanket with her dog or cat at the end of her bed. The way she makes me feel every time I see that familiar face but unknown soul. I think about what happened and why she will not love me back, because god damn, I miss the person who made me feel like all I every wanted was right in front of me.

The second person who left a imprint on my brain like a nail hammered too far into wood, was a guy who never loved me the way I loved him. He was so easy to love. He made you feel safe. When he grabbed my hand when I drove I felt like nothing could hurt me. He made crossing the road feel like an adventure. He left me for three months with no phone call, text message: appearance. I felt as if someone took a spatula and carved everything I had inside of me, every emotion, every feeling, and ripped it out. I remember crying the same way I cried for her to love me back. After the fourth month he came back, but she never did.

But I guess the worst part is, I had everything I ever wanted in front of me, and I was too foolish too realize it. I just come up with all these scenarios in my head and they drive me mad. But the truth is they are all an extension of the same thing: I want someone and they do not want me back.

And there is nothing beautiful about ripping yourself apart for someone who will never love you again.