When You Love the Wrong Person

While I had romantic notions ever since realizing my sexuality halfway through eighth grade (and probably further back but never noticed), my first real crush started my first day of high school. I was an advanced freshman, and so I ended up in Algebra II with the sophomores and juniors. After my initial terror, it soon became apparent that no one was going to pay me any mind, so I was free to watch them. While the teacher was droning on about the syllabus, I looked around me. 

My world stopped when I saw him. He had beautiful brown eyes and dark brown hair that swept gently over them. His nose was just, slightly upturned which, coupled with his beautiful grin, gave him the cutest mischievous look imaginable. His skin was the color of caramel, darkened by what I later learned was his native american heritage. His laugh was practically musical.

Of course, that laugh was only being brought on by notes from his girlfriend. Because he was straight. Because they're always straight. 

I pined for months, trying to never stare, and always trying to see him more. I was hopelessly in love, and I didn't know his name for weeks. And in the end, I finally stopped feeling those feelings that wouldn't get me anywhere (and then I fell for another straight boy). 

I made it so much worse for myself than I needed to. Yes, I ended up, through no fault of anyone's, liking the wrong person, and so was guaranteed a special hell until the love left (which it never does fully, it seems). But the thing is, I obsessed over it. Sure, I thought about him when we were in the same room or (joy of joys!) speaking, but did I have to lie awake thinking about him, constructing elaborate scenarios that would lead to him coming out to me (girlfriend or not)? 

I let it grow even worse. Liking the wrong person is hell, but it's stupid to make it worse by your own hand. I couldn't change that I saw him and heard him, but I shouldn't have nurtured every errant thought about him that drifted into my head. It couldn't be, and no excuse on my part could make that better. 

It's a hell, but all you can do is live it and wait for it to die. 

It will.