Inspired by: Unrequited Love

A Melancholic tale

Foreword: I doubt it has to be said, but the names used in this fiction are not the real names of the people involved. Some parts have been added and some have been left out. It is up to the reader to discern which are which. This story is not for those who are optimistic and hopeful because this tale will depress those who dare to read it. This was the feeling that I tried to convey. This tale is a tale of unrequited love and heartache. I hope you have enjoyed this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

My name is Zayn and hers is Adara. I heard her name long before I saw her in person. She was the talk of the school, the beautiful freshman that mesmerised all, and I was the guy that people forgot about the second they turn their back. We were the same age so I was curious as to who it was that caught the attention of all the guys in school. The rumours got so wide-spread that I went in search of this beautiful vixen that was the topic of every conversation. I found her during our lunch break and stood there, dumbfounded by her staggering beauty, completely paralysed for a full minute. With my mouth agape our eyes met and my life was changed forever. I tried to smile but I ended up doing some kind of weird drooling waving gesture with an idiotic grin on my face. She smiled back so sweetly that I just turned and shuffled away in embarrassment.

Following our little encounter, I tried my best to cross paths with her. I used the longest route back to my class in an attempt to catch a glimpse of her. I pretended that I had business in her class so that I could see her. I found various ways of “coincidentally” running into her. My friends were divided into two, half saying that she wasn’t good enough for me, for she had a reputation of being rather bitchy, while the other half felt that I was not worthy of having such an attractive girlfriend. I agreed with the latter for how can one expect a perfection to love a flaw, a beauty to love a beast, a goddess to love a mortal? I knew she would not, could not be happy with me. I felt that she deserved better than me in every way. For you see, I am not the strongest of men, neither the fastest, nor the wisest or even the most handsome. She, on the other hand, surpass all in beauty, grace and class. I spent my waking moments thinking of her and my time within dreams visualising her. I close my eyes and see her image and I open them hoping to see her. When left alone with my thoughts, the only thing on my mind is her. Fettered by my desire for her affection, my life was left for dead.

After admiring her from afar for quite awhile, I finally found the courage to make my move. During the early days of February, the school clubs would supply Valentines gifts for those who want them, at a price, and I felt that this was my big chance to sweep her off her feet. I spent the night thinking of an appropriate way to separate my gift from the rest. I came to the conclusion that if I gave her a poem with the gift, it would make it more special. I racked my brains all night thinking of a poem befitting her majesty, forfeiting sleep over my labour, I finish just before the crack of dawn. I groggily get ready for school and I carefully place the poem in my pants pocket.

The poem sounded something like this:

All the love that history knows,

Is said to be in one red rose,

But all that can be found in two,

Is nothing compared to my love for you.

Once I reach school, I quickly go to the stall that sells roses and buy one. I attach the poem to the blossom and secretly place it on her desk. As I am placing it, my eyes wander over her books and I halt in my tracks as I scrutinize the way she curves her l’s and how she dots her i’s until I hear footsteps in the corridor. I quickly step out of the class and go about my day as usual. When it was time to go home, I waited for her to walk past my class to see if she would look for the person who sent her the poem. To my surprise and dismay, she walked straight past my class carrying an abundance of valentine presents. I went to sleep convincing myself that she didn’t even receive the rose, that someone had seen it and had took it.

As I was walking to school the next day, I saw her and I called to her. She stopped, as she turned around, she flipped her hair in such a way that it left me completely speechless. I regained composure with a struggle and asked her if she received the rose that I gave her. She then told me that she found a lone rose on her desk the day before but it had no card on it. She then continued to tell me that her classmate claimed to have sent it to her and that I was contradicting him. I tried to tell her that it was me who had left it there but alas, my pleas fell on deaf ears. She believed her classmate more than she did me. After all, this was my first time ever talking to her. I spent the rest of the day in a foul mood. I confronted the person who had claimed my rose as his own and asked him why he did it. He smiled and simply said “All is fair in love and war, my friend.”

As the years went by, my love for her never wavered, never lessened. I slowly found out more and more about her. I knew her favourite colour, her favourite food and even her phone number and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. To my everlasting sorrow, even though I knew all this, she did not even know my name. I spent sleepless nights thinking about her and she did not even know my name. I told few about my love for her, those that did know offered pity. Pity for the fool who was in love with someone who does not even know of his existence. I did not blame them for even I felt my situation was rather pitiful. Nevertheless, my feelings were undeniable. Her smile brought happiness and her happiness brought a smile, her pain brought tears while her tears brought pain.

One day, I was in the car with my family and we were involved in an accident. The car flipped over and skidded across the road at an estimated 100km/h. All the time I was in the overturned car, the metal screeching on the road and the screams of my family ringing in my ears, the only thing I could think of is her, I thought to myself, “She doesn’t even know you love her, now you’re going to die, and she will never know.” This thought and this thought alone made me want to live. Once the car had stopped skidding, my family and I crawled out of the car and waited for help to come. Thankfully, no one was seriously injured. I sat at the side of the road as I waited for the ambulance and pondered as to why I felt this way for someone who didn’t even know me. As I mulled it over in my mind, the ambulance came and more important matters filled my mind.

A week subsequent to the accident, I went back to school and I tried harder than ever to catch her attention. I wrote another poem for her and I placed it on her desk. This time I waited outside her class and made sure that she received it. After I saw that she had read it, I came into her class and asked her what she thought about it. I had written my name on the poem and she asked me whether it was from me. I nodded and I told her that she inspired me to write it. She smiled and thanked me. The poem went like this.

Beauty’s embodiment

Grace is displayed in every movement,

Elegant in all aspects of poise and stature,

Simply no more room for improvement,

There is majesty displayed in every feature,

You are a queen and I a mere peasant.

All the words that one may endeavour,

Do not suffice to describe your splendour,

Everyday I spend is a day spent fettered,

Love is the bond that holds me inhibited,

I am humbly asking for your attention,

A thousand years could not waver my affection.

Sophisticated and pleasant,

My fingers type with you in mind,

I feel empty when you are absent,

There are none equal that one could find,

Heaven has one less angel present.

As I giddily walked back to my class, a friend stopped me and told me that he heard about what I had done. He continued to ask me why I gave a love poem to someone who already has a significant other. Mouth agape in astonishment, I asked him whether he was serious or not. He then told me the whole story. The brief happiness that I held shattered and the splinters lodged themselves into my heart causing a deep, sharp pain.

I spent that day wallowing in the depths of sorrow and frustration. I kept thinking about how much of a fool I must have come off as. I had just confessed to someone who already had a boyfriend. Just thinking about it made me flush with embarrassment. My friends gave me encouragement, saying that I was better than her boyfriend or that she would be foolish not to be at least a little moved by my poem. Albeit their faith in me, I myself did not feel the same confidence. Encouraged by my friends, I walked her home later that day. I asked her whether she liked the poem and if she had a boyfriend or not. To my joy and sorrow, she answered yes to both. I told her that I didn’t know she was in a relationship. She looked away and said that they had been together for a few months already. We walked in silence after that. Once we had reached her house, I told her that I wouldn’t bother her anymore because I did not want to put her in the position of having to choose either me or her boyfriend. As I started to walk back to my own house, she called my name for the first time and told me that she had something to give me in return for the poem. She gave me a folded piece of paper and told me that in return for a poem, she wrote a poem. I will not enclose the poem she gave me in this account.

A few days after, a friend of mine told me that she had fought with her boyfriend and that they had broken up. I immediately saw this as a chance to get closer to her. I went to her class and the moment I saw her face, it felt like someone had took a knife and stuck it in my chest, for her melancholic expression was so sorrowful and saddening. I then decided that I would not bother her today. After a few days, I gave her a call and I asked whether she would like to go out on a date with me. To my disbelief, she simply told me that she still had a boyfriend and that it would be awkward and strange if she was to go out on a date with me. After I put down the phone, I called the friend who had so grossly misinformed me and gave him an earful. He calmly told me that Adara and her boyfriend were infamous for breaking up and making up soon after. I told him that he should have told me that little piece of information before and that he was an idiot for not doing so. That day was one of the worst that I have ever had the misery of experiencing. Imagine how you’d feel if you had poured your heart and soul to someone who was already in a relationship. In an attempt to forget about Adara, I try to find someone else. Alas, I do not succeed in finding a girl that can even come close to Adara’s beauty. For how can I love another when I have seen perfection? Nevermore would I be able to look at a girl and not compare her to Adara. My friends told me that it was unhealthy to be so caught up over a girl and that I should just move on. We, as humans, naturally want something that we can’t have even more than if we could have it. The fact that she was so unattainable made me obsess over her even more. I spent the rest of my high school senior year in misery.

I soon came to realise that she would never choose me over her boyfriend. It gave me a vague sense of freedom. I decided to enjoy this sweet reprieve while it lasted, which was a good choice, as it did not last for very long. As I was eating dinner with my family, as God would have it, she breezes in through the door with her boyfriend. I end up choking on my meal in shock. As my family was calling for help, the feeling of not wanting to be saved, to be forsaken, crept across my mind. As I was considering it, someone grabs me from behind and performs the Heimlich manoeuvre. A large piece of steak comes flying out of my mouth. Gasping for air, red from embarrassment and sitting in a mess of my own food on the floor, I look up and see her beautiful eyes. I saw her boyfriend beside her, chuckling to himself. I felt like taking the nearby cutlery and sticking them in my neck. I got up, dusted myself off, and told my family that I would walk home. I leave the restaurant, as I walked out the door, I heard her reproach her boyfriend for being so inconsiderate.

Lunacy

All the people grin emptily and whisper supportive nothings,

Devious thoughts approach carried on silver wings,

Altering my perception and darkening my judgement,

Merciless trials have only aggravated my torment.

Zephyrs rage and purify my soul,

Under the moonlight I am once again whole,

Lifting my arms towards the starlit sky,

Hell awaits me and there I will lie,

I look to the heavens and curse his name,

Listless stars, flickering, reply without shame,

My breath becomes shallow and my hands begin to quake,

In the heat of the moment my mind begins to break.

Anger swells and electrifies my senses,

Hate appears before me and magnifies my transgresses,

Madness seeps inside me and I yearn to be free,

Abandoning hope I allow my will to fall,

Death looms before me and I heed his shrill call.

As I walked home from the restaurant, distraught and bewildered, my phone received a text message. I stop walking and fumble my phone out of my pocket. The title of the message was “Can we talk?” and it was sent from a number that I had memorised long ago. The whole message went something like this “Can we talk? I’m sorry he’s such a jerk. I only went out with him this last time because he pleaded me to. We broke up a while ago. Are you alright? Please reply as soon as you can.” As I read the message, a smile beams across my face. As I am fervently typing my reply, a blinding light appears and the screeching of brakes rings in my ears. I look up to see a car speeding straight towards me.

Afterword: He spent his life pining over her beauty. He spent his life fawning over her perfection. He spent his life loving someone who does not love him back. To those who have never experienced unrequited love, allow me to give a small prayer so that you will never have to experience it.