I’ve finally decided to stop trying not to fall for the adorable geek even if he’s not into me. Even if he never will be. It’s a risk that feels incredibly unlike me but also feels right at the same time. So, while not exactly rushing in blindly, this is a risk but a calculated risk, I have decided to let myself fall. I feel alive when falling in love. I feel alive, albeit miserable, when my heart is broken. I can’t help but think of him as the type of person who’s worth being broken hearted over. I never thought of my ex in those terms and, at the end of the day, he’ll never know and our amazing friendship will continue.
Oddly enough, as soon as I gave myself permission to fall for him, I started feeling a little less enamored. Is it the thrill of the chase? Or am I just not the type who can prolong emotions unrequited for extended periods of time? Perhaps I simply do not see him frequently enough and I forget how good he smells and how silly he is and how amazing his arms feel around me when I do see him?
You know what? Scratch that last paragraph. Damn.