To the boys whose hearts he will break tomorrow

The modus operandi starts like this.

During one of those nights when you feel lonely and alone, he would come barging in and ask you, “Hey, are you okay?” You thought no one was paying attention and nobody cared enough to ask what’s going on in that little head of yours. Like welcoming an uninvited guest, you began to respond.

He wasn’t your friend, and you’ve certainly not met him in person. But you’ve been following each other for months on Twitter or Facebook or Instagram and of all the days he could be messaging you, he chose to be there for you during a night when you thought no one else was willing to listen.

Suddenly, even for a brief moment, the loneliness became less unbearable.

The conversation stretched on for days and weeks. He would make you feel special when everyone else is sleeping.

You, with your restless heart at three in the morning, put on your headphones and listen to a song he said meant the world to him. You listen intently and read between the lines and, by the end of the last stanza, swear he could be the one.

But he isn’t, and will never be. For all you know, he had shared this song and said the exact same line to four other guys before you. You don’t know this for sure — at least, not yet.

There are times when he’s there, there are times when you don’t have a clue as to what’s happening. You’re afraid to ask because, after all, your relationship is built on ambiguity.

So you watch your phone go silent at three in the morning with zero notifications from him.

And radio silent would he go for days, sometimes for weeks on. You tell yourself probably he’s just busy.

But no one can be that busy. Trying to keep this idea at bay, you listen to the song he swore meant a lot to him. You would sing along, at times, muttering the lines like a mantra.

At times, you resort to half-desperate tweets of carefully selected sad lyrics to songs he only would know — in hopes to cut through the noise of his daily life and get noticed. You keep your fingers crossed that you get lucky tonight.

And you know this is not right; some of your friends would even call it immature. But years of chasing him and almost making it have made you oblivious to the fact that this vagueness is toxic no matter how beautiful you make it sound to be.

I hope I could say there is a happy or bad ending to this because there isn’t. This is a cycle; a dance you’ve become so used to performing with him. But all this chasing after someone who is emotionally unavailable but doesn’t act like it would soon run its course. Years of being dangled around would eventually tire you.

And one day you might hear the same song he said meant the world to him. Do yourself a favor and press next.

Categorized as Personal

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