Powerless

I need to stop trying to ignore it.
Tucked away in the recesses of my mind, in a box labeled “stuff” is you.
I had to do this.
I needed to hide you from myself, smash you in a box with a conspicuous label and shove you under a bunch of things I never look at.
See I'm not one for pain.
It grips me like a huge wrench and grinds me into a helpless, crying heap of flesh and emotions.
I hate it.
And this “relationship” (that's as far as I'll go to label it) is like pain on a stick beating the life out of me with every new day.
The problem is that I thought it was over.
I thought if I just got over you, on to another one, that I could ignore what was always there.
I can't.
Its becoming more and more apparent to me that I loved you all along.
All along.
I couldn't explain the fascination at first.
Maybe like a new toy or a good book.
But it grew into admiration, adoration, agitation.
Do you know what it's like to love unconditionally? Unrequitedly?
Of course not.
But I do.
To love, and to wish to be loved back.
To expect to be loved back.
To believe you are loved back.
Is like waiting for a train that will never come.
The tracks are rusted, the station deserted, yet the eager traveler stands at the edge of the platform peering into the distance, convinced the train is just over the horizon.
Its pathetic.
I was pathetic.
I can't promise I won't be pathetic again.
But I will try.
I hate the way you make me feel.
Powerless.