Everything I Ever Wanted
Oliver Wendell.
I will never understand why my life works the way that it does.
It’s like someone, somewhere, is constantly watching me. They keep track of what I want, and what I don’t want, which sounds like it would be amazing – at first. But no. The person who does this is very cruel. They are twisted beyond imagination. Everything I want, they take away from me. And everything I hate, they bring ever nearer.
It just isn’t fair...
***
Again, I click on his Facebook link. Oliver Wendell. I swear, somehow he has to have the feeling that I’m stalking him. I do this every day. Check what’s new. See who he’s talking to. Sometimes, I even comment on his statuses. It’s the only way I have to keep up with him, now.
I loved him. I really did. He was everything I ever wanted. But he slipped through my fingers. I keep hoping that he’ll come back to me. He told me that he liked me, a lot. But why would you run from someone that you like?
The way we met was strange, but not as strange as it could have been, I suppose. Our first conversation was about how he didn’t want to be a cow.
I stole his number out of my sister’s phone, on that June afternoon. I was bored, and wanted to make friends. And so I met him.
We started talking. He was the one who told me, first, that he liked me. He wanted to go to the movies with me, or something. I thought it was amazing. I had seen his pictures. He was beautiful. And he was so sweet.... I wanted to wonder “Why me?” but I was afraid that if I questioned it, it would fall to pieces. So I just accepted it and basked in my immense joy.
And then came the day that we met.
He was the first guy ever to show me that it was okay to want to see him. With every guy before him, I walked on eggshells. I had to watch what I said, because I didn’t want to seem clingy. I couldn’t complain if things got in the way and I didn’t get to see them.
He let me know it was okay to want to be with him. He wanted to see me just as bad as I wanted to see him, and he let me know it. Showing feelings was okay. And I questioned if he could get any more perfect than he already had.
We didn’t even do anything exciting. We took a walk, and I showed him a secret abandoned house. I had found it one day, exploring in the woods. He kissed me, and it was beautiful.
He was the most amazing kisser I had ever met in my life – he still holds that place. I think that’s what hurt the most about losing him. Maybe that’s shallow, but at least I can be truthful. It hurt a lot.
We didn’t ever really do anything the day that he came over. We just talked. And kissed. Even when he almost got dehydrated – because we went walking in the middle of the summer and he hadn’t had anything to drink – we still had fun. He was so much fun to be around.
And then, he went on a mission trip. That was when he followed the pattern. He was the one who defined it as a pattern – after three, it’s a set deal. He followed the pattern: he told me he liked me, I fell for him, he disappeared for a few days, and he came back with a girlfriend. And it broke my freaking heart, just like it does every time.
It had never hurt as much as it did that day, though. He had seemed so perfect; so nice, so caring. So sweet. Funny. Amazing. I guess I should have known that it was too good to be true. He didn’t even realize that what he had done was wrong. He didn’t see that he had any fault. In his mind, he was in the clear. He didn’t see that he had just shattered my heart.
But I got over it. It took a little but, but I healed. That is, until that day at the mall.
My sister and her friend decided they wanted to go to the mall, and they asked me to take them. And, my sister decided to invite him along. At first, we didn’t even really talk, me and him. But, we had obvious chemistry. We always had. Even when my sister’s friend tried to walk between us, to get his attention, he always managed to end up next to me. Subtly. Inconspicuously. But I noticed. It was never an accident. He walked so close that he would bump into me. I could smell him. It just about drove me crazy.
We almost kissed, again and again that day. I wanted to. He wanted to. So many nights after, I kicked myself for not going for it. Even to this day, it frustrates me to think of how much of a coward I was, to know that he would have let me. I was so close. At one point, we were just standing there, our bodies pressed together as I tried to wrestle something out of his hands. I could feel his breath on my neck as he laughed at me. Our eyes met, and we both paused. Waiting for the other. But then he backed off.
Later, he told me that he didn’t kiss me – even though he wanted to so bad – because he didn’t think that I wanted him to – the same reason that I hadn’t. It was the last chance I ever had.
The next day, I decided to be straightforward – for once. I told him how much I liked him. Asked him if he liked me. And he did. Does.
But it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t okay with the fact that I didn’t live in the same town. Even though I came in almost every weekend. Even though he liked me so much. Even though I liked him back. It just wasn’t enough.
And the thing that kills me the most is our chemistry is so amazing. And he realizes that, but he won’t give us a chance. We’re perfect. I want him...
It hurts so much, thinking about it. Even now. Even though I have a boyfriend who loves me. Even though I love him, too. I can’t stop myself from thinking about Oliver. And it hurts.
I torture myself. Every day, I torture myself. I wonder what could have been. I hope that someday we can be together. I ask myself if he’ll accept me.
He was perfect. Is perfect. He’s all I’ve ever wanted. And he’s doesn’t want me. Not anymore. Not from a distance. It’s the stupidest excuse I’ve ever heard in my life. “I like you, but you just live too far away. I know you visit often, but that just isn’t enough.”
It hurt. It hurt me so bad. He might as well have just said the reason he didn’t want to date me was because he had other girls waiting, girls at his disposal. He was beautiful, right? And it hurt.
But still, I keep hoping that he’ll come back to me. I know it won’t happen. But I still hope that it will. Stupidly, I hope that it will. Maybe someday...
“It’s hard to wait around for something you know will never happen, but it’s even harder when you know it’s everything you want.”
--Unknown
It’s like someone, somewhere, is constantly watching me. They keep track of what I want, and what I don’t want, which sounds like it would be amazing – at first. But no. The person who does this is very cruel. They are twisted beyond imagination. Everything I want, they take away from me. And everything I hate, they bring ever nearer.
It just isn’t fair...
***
Again, I click on his Facebook link. Oliver Wendell. I swear, somehow he has to have the feeling that I’m stalking him. I do this every day. Check what’s new. See who he’s talking to. Sometimes, I even comment on his statuses. It’s the only way I have to keep up with him, now.
I loved him. I really did. He was everything I ever wanted. But he slipped through my fingers. I keep hoping that he’ll come back to me. He told me that he liked me, a lot. But why would you run from someone that you like?
The way we met was strange, but not as strange as it could have been, I suppose. Our first conversation was about how he didn’t want to be a cow.
I stole his number out of my sister’s phone, on that June afternoon. I was bored, and wanted to make friends. And so I met him.
We started talking. He was the one who told me, first, that he liked me. He wanted to go to the movies with me, or something. I thought it was amazing. I had seen his pictures. He was beautiful. And he was so sweet.... I wanted to wonder “Why me?” but I was afraid that if I questioned it, it would fall to pieces. So I just accepted it and basked in my immense joy.
And then came the day that we met.
He was the first guy ever to show me that it was okay to want to see him. With every guy before him, I walked on eggshells. I had to watch what I said, because I didn’t want to seem clingy. I couldn’t complain if things got in the way and I didn’t get to see them.
He let me know it was okay to want to be with him. He wanted to see me just as bad as I wanted to see him, and he let me know it. Showing feelings was okay. And I questioned if he could get any more perfect than he already had.
We didn’t even do anything exciting. We took a walk, and I showed him a secret abandoned house. I had found it one day, exploring in the woods. He kissed me, and it was beautiful.
He was the most amazing kisser I had ever met in my life – he still holds that place. I think that’s what hurt the most about losing him. Maybe that’s shallow, but at least I can be truthful. It hurt a lot.
We didn’t ever really do anything the day that he came over. We just talked. And kissed. Even when he almost got dehydrated – because we went walking in the middle of the summer and he hadn’t had anything to drink – we still had fun. He was so much fun to be around.
And then, he went on a mission trip. That was when he followed the pattern. He was the one who defined it as a pattern – after three, it’s a set deal. He followed the pattern: he told me he liked me, I fell for him, he disappeared for a few days, and he came back with a girlfriend. And it broke my freaking heart, just like it does every time.
It had never hurt as much as it did that day, though. He had seemed so perfect; so nice, so caring. So sweet. Funny. Amazing. I guess I should have known that it was too good to be true. He didn’t even realize that what he had done was wrong. He didn’t see that he had any fault. In his mind, he was in the clear. He didn’t see that he had just shattered my heart.
But I got over it. It took a little but, but I healed. That is, until that day at the mall.
My sister and her friend decided they wanted to go to the mall, and they asked me to take them. And, my sister decided to invite him along. At first, we didn’t even really talk, me and him. But, we had obvious chemistry. We always had. Even when my sister’s friend tried to walk between us, to get his attention, he always managed to end up next to me. Subtly. Inconspicuously. But I noticed. It was never an accident. He walked so close that he would bump into me. I could smell him. It just about drove me crazy.
We almost kissed, again and again that day. I wanted to. He wanted to. So many nights after, I kicked myself for not going for it. Even to this day, it frustrates me to think of how much of a coward I was, to know that he would have let me. I was so close. At one point, we were just standing there, our bodies pressed together as I tried to wrestle something out of his hands. I could feel his breath on my neck as he laughed at me. Our eyes met, and we both paused. Waiting for the other. But then he backed off.
Later, he told me that he didn’t kiss me – even though he wanted to so bad – because he didn’t think that I wanted him to – the same reason that I hadn’t. It was the last chance I ever had.
The next day, I decided to be straightforward – for once. I told him how much I liked him. Asked him if he liked me. And he did. Does.
But it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t okay with the fact that I didn’t live in the same town. Even though I came in almost every weekend. Even though he liked me so much. Even though I liked him back. It just wasn’t enough.
And the thing that kills me the most is our chemistry is so amazing. And he realizes that, but he won’t give us a chance. We’re perfect. I want him...
It hurts so much, thinking about it. Even now. Even though I have a boyfriend who loves me. Even though I love him, too. I can’t stop myself from thinking about Oliver. And it hurts.
I torture myself. Every day, I torture myself. I wonder what could have been. I hope that someday we can be together. I ask myself if he’ll accept me.
He was perfect. Is perfect. He’s all I’ve ever wanted. And he’s doesn’t want me. Not anymore. Not from a distance. It’s the stupidest excuse I’ve ever heard in my life. “I like you, but you just live too far away. I know you visit often, but that just isn’t enough.”
It hurt. It hurt me so bad. He might as well have just said the reason he didn’t want to date me was because he had other girls waiting, girls at his disposal. He was beautiful, right? And it hurt.
But still, I keep hoping that he’ll come back to me. I know it won’t happen. But I still hope that it will. Stupidly, I hope that it will. Maybe someday...
“It’s hard to wait around for something you know will never happen, but it’s even harder when you know it’s everything you want.”
--Unknown