A Letter to the Poetry of An Unrequited Love

To the Unrequited Poetry,

If it stays, it’s love.
If it ends, it’s a love story.
And if it never begins, it’s poetry.

To date, I am amazed by the person who must have penned down these words. It is true how a love that never begins becomes poetry that never leaves your side.

Months ago, I moved to the place that was always my home in my farthest dreams. And as I was about to start living that dream, I wondered what it might have in store for me. The city gave me everything that I always wished for, including the poetry that introduced me to a palace of emotions.

I never imagined that a smile could turn my world upside down. Love at first sight was never my piece of cake. Always latching on to Google Sheets for every analysis in my life, I had zero clues on how to resolve the formula error that happened to me when I saw you giggling in front of me. The city was filled with faces unknown, it was still a new land for me to explore. Amidst that anonymity, something in me felt grounded when I found myself around you.

You were no ordinary encounter. Your stories were enchanting. Your thoughts could transport me to a different world. But not every fairytale ends with a peaceful sunset. While the Ted in me thought of you as my Tracy, you in reality were my Stella instead. When Stella broke Ted’s heart, he wanted to go on a rampage. But somehow, all of that went away when he saw Stella giggling. I guess that is how one-sided love works, right?

Ours was a story that never began. But amidst the beginning and end, there were our moments that covered it all. I imagined the unicorns with you, but Augustus Waters was right in saying that the world is not a wish-granting factory. After years of putting my guard up against an unrequited love, I lost my shield at your sight. And even though I never got the story I dreamt of, I got the poetry that will always remain my own. The hope that someday this story might end with rainbows persists to this day. However, it doesn’t feel hollow anymore when those rainbows fade away in my thoughts.

Stories can be created and recreated. Poems are etched for an eternity. Once written, it cannot be beautified or revamped. It can only be felt for years to come. While everyone around me stayed to be mere words, you were poetry.

Love,

The Girl who Fell in Love, Again