I've never been the type of girl to spend hours crying over a boy because he didn't text me back, I've never doodled names over my notebook (except John Lennon's) and the idea of committing myself to one person for the rest of my life has always petrified me...actually, the idea of committing myself to one person for more than one night is enough to bring me out in a rash.
If I think back, there's never been a time in my life where it's been so obvious that I'm heartbroken, but truth be told I've done really uncool things to get to spend even 20 minutes with the person I fancied at the age of 15, because I was that desperate to spend time with him, I've befriended alcohol in an attempt to forget about a break-up and I've even spent an entire night, downloading, and listening to The Smiths Ultimate Collection - which is serious dedication to heartbreak.
Heartbreak is horrible; it causes us to devour bars of chocolate without stopping for breath, flirt with the ugly guy at the bar just for an ego boost and drink a litre of vodka only to then throw it up over an unsuspecting taxi driver. However, for me, what's even worse than heartbreak is the notion of unrequited love. Loving somebody who has no idea that you even exist or even worse, loving somebody who knows you exist but has no idea of how you feel.
Before actually thinking about it, I wouldn't have said I've ever experienced unrequited love. But, we all have really. It might not have been a first hand experience but we've all seen the damage this type of love can cause. For example, in 'Love Actually', the character of Mark is in love with Juliet (played by Keira Knightley) who is married to Mark's best friend, Peter. We see Mark turn up on Juliet's doorstep, confess his undying love for her and then walk away. He gets the pain, the longing and most of all the wasted time, which unrequited love is all about. The same can be said for 'My Best Friend's Wedding' where we see Julia Robert's character chase after Dermot Mulroney character who is actually chasing after Cameron Diaz's character.
All very complicated but after all, films help us prepare for the real world, so on a personal note to Julia Roberts, because she obviously reads my blogs all the time: thanks for setting me up for what has turned out to be the most distressing situation my heart has ever experienced; you're a doll.
I believe that admitting you're suffering from a bad case of unrequited love is the first step to getting over it. It's not pleasant but it is necessary if you want any chance at all of moving on. So here I am, admitting that I'm completely infatuated with somebody, and while their actions may say otherwise, they insist they don't feel the same. What an ego boost that was...
Although I'm obviously a bit annoyed with the outcome of the situation, I'm left wondering what do I do now?
I can go to London, party really hard, spend an awful lot of time crying (partly because of a hangover and partly because NOBODY LOVES ME) and eventually drink myself into such an emotional stupor that some poor guy takes pity on me and offers to take me back to his to show me a good time. What he doesn't know is that the 'good time' he's got planned will probably consist of me crying into the toilet bowl, after throwing up everything I've ever eaten, and moaning about the lack of affection I'm receiving from the person I want it from the most. Way to kill a mood.
I can address the situation head on, be mature and ask the person what exactly they want from me now; are we expected to be friends when I quite clearly want something else or do we just pretend that the past however many years we've spent as 'friends' (we have a very complicated history, which doesn't help) mean nothing and move on, say goodbye and end it at that?
Although the latter is definitely the one I'd like to be able to choose, I'm afraid the idea of flirting (crying) with a complete stranger and drinking obscene amounts of tequila is actually more appealing right now.
Now, I've seen Sex and the City and I'm pretty open about the fact that I wish I was more like Samantha: carefree, fun loving and always in control. I'd love for my mini breakdown to involve me turning into this ballsy, feisty character who insists that men buy the drinks AND the hotel room for after the Cosmopolitans. After dedicating a night to research just how she would deal with my situation, it's safe to say I'm pretty certain she'd take the "if you want to get over someone, you must get under somebody else" motto. Instead of crying into a bottle of wine, listening to The Smiths and Adele, complaining about how shit it really is that the feelings you feel for somebody else aren't mutual, go out there and find somebody who cares enough to ask your name and what your favourite sexual position is. Have fun. Have free and meaningless (safe) sex until you forget the name, age, address and favourite band of the person you were so wrapped up with. And finally, don't regret a single moment.
I like this idea. Or, at least I like the idea of this idea...
When I tweeted about whether that approach was the best approach to getting over somebody, so many people - women especially - replied saying "NO!! Do not start another issue until you resolve the last one!"
I guess they don't feel the same way about Samantha Jones as I do. I asked good friends, ex boyfriends/people I've had 'things' with, parents of friends and even complete strangers what their approach would be and nearly everybody said the same thing: you need 'me' time.
My pal Hannah gave me AMAZING advice. A whole 4 paragraphs on why I shouldn't take the above approach and why I should be grateful that the feelings I felt weren't mutual, because my heart has just been saved from a lot of future pain. Even though I may not realise it now, if this person had lied to me and said they felt the same, in a couple of months when they realised I wasn't what they wanted, I'd be even more hurt than I am now.
Carrie replied saying that 'me time' was vital, else you'll never learn from the previous and therefore you wouldn't grow for the future. Besides treating everything this chick says as gospel, I can't help but think she's speaking sense.
While I'd LOVE to be able to say that I'm fine, that I'm not hurting at all and I feel just super, I think the whole notion of "getting under somebody else" would make it impossible for me to move on. I wouldn't learn from my mistakes because I'd just be making fresher ones. Although Mark from 'Love Actually' and Julia Robert's character in 'My Best Friend's Wedding' both probably felt like they needed to go and get absolutely trollied after being rejected, they didn't. Well I don't think they did, but for the sake of this blog post, let's just pretend they didn't. Do you want to know the reason why they didn't? Of course you do, because I'm completely winging this, hoping that Richard Curtis will phone me the minute this has been published and aske me to pen a 'Love Actually 2'. The reason why it's not sensible to jump into the bed of any willing person the day after you've just been told it's never going to happen with the person you considered to be the love of your life is that although the orgasm might be brilliant, in the morning your mental state will be the complete opposite to that.
You need to give yourself time, closure and distance from the person your heart's in such a mess over. There isn't a limit on how much of these things you need because you'll know in your heart when the time is right. Be thankful that things never worked out because that person clearly wasn't meant for you. You'll find the one who deserves your heart eventually.
As for me, I'm going to post this on Facebook/Twitter and hope that it helps at least one person save their heart from that little bit of pain. While I don't know exactly how I'm supposed to deal with my situation, I do know that I'm ready to listen to The Smiths some more and get intimate with a glass (or 5) of wine. In the meantime, one can always find comfort in knowing that Adele has felt exactly the same: