Last Twelve Days

At the beginning when you fall in love, there's hope. It's all sweetness and light and loveliness...and anticipation. Hope drives us to ridiculous extremes, sometimes.

It's more like every electron in every atom in the universe paused, breathed in deeply, assessed the situation, and then reversed its course, spinning backward, or the other way, which was the right way all along. And afterward, the universe was exactly the same, but infinitely more right.

Being in love with someone who doesn't even know you exist isn't the worst thing in the world. In fact, it's quite the opposite. Almost like passing in a term paper that you know sucked, but having that period of time where you haven't gotten your grade back yet-that kind of exhale where you haven't been rejected, although you pretty much know how it's going to turn out.

Unrequited love.

We've all been there, haven't we? I know I certainly have. Unrequited love is all right in books and things, but in real life, it completely sucks. Because what's worse than knowing you want something, besides knowing you can never have it?

It's true that not everything you want, you will get. Means, it's not destined to be yours and you need to accept it.

I need to accept it.