Saturday, October 10, 2015

unrequited love

I have this fascination for emotions I've never experienced, those gray areas that haven't been on my path. Ever since I was a little girl, unrequited love was one of those virtues. I found music and literature and poetry about the subject to be some of the most moving of all. What must it be like, for someone to have such an impact on your life but for you to have little to no impact on theirs? Is it easier to stay in love with someone from afar, as everything about them can be a theory? 

I would ask these types of questions to friends in situations where feelings were one sided.  

Charles Bukowski's poem about this concept stuck with me and I still don't understand why. I know they say to write about the familiar but for me, that's limiting. 

Maybe by writing, I can try to be many people going through many things at once. 

"I loved you

like a man loves a woman he never touches, only

writes to, keeps little photographs of. I would have
loved you more if I had sat in a small room rolling a
cigarette and listened to you piss in the bathroom,
but that didn’ happen. your letters got sadder.
your lovers betrayed you. kid, I wrote back, all
lovers betray. it didn’ help. you said
you had a crying bench and it was by a bridge and
the bridge was over a river and you sat on the crying
bench every night and wept for the lovers who had
hurt and forgotten you. I wrote back but never
heard again." 

Charles Bukowski