And it kills me

There's this feeling you get whenever they walk into the room.

Your heart does a little jump and all of a sudden, butterflies that were dormant until this point are desperate to escape your stomach.

Perhaps you don't really understand why, don't know why it is that person that does it, perhaps you don't even know them very well, perhaps you know them better than anyone else.
You try to see them at least once a week or so, not wanting to scare them off, but wanting to see them a bit more regularly than you used to.
Whenever your phone rings, you wonder if it's them, and you're disappointed when it's not.
You want to talk to them more, but it takes a while to get up the courage, to be sure that they're not going to shut you down and leave you feeling like a heartbroken idiot.

They continue to occupy more and more of your thoughts, until you can't get them out of your head at all.
You start trying to create new ways to see them, falling just short of stalking, perhaps just happening to go into where they work when you could have gone somewhere ten minutes closer to fill up your car/buy your milk/get your cigarettes.

And then, most shocking of all, things start falling into place.
Maybe not the same as always, but this time they do.
They let you know that they feel the same way, maybe because they're confident, maybe because they're as desperate to know you as you are them, perhaps because they've been aided by everyone's favourite social lubricant, alcohol.
And things start to progress, you see them, perhaps their hand brushes yours, and eventually one of you brings up the courage to actually grab the other's sweaty hand, then to lean in for the goodnight kiss.

Things might be kept under wraps for a while, but people aren't too surprised when they find out. You couldn't stop talking about them anyway.
You've been seeing them for a while, and finally you want to put a label on something, to banish those terrible insecure thoughts that attack you every once in a while, in the dead of the night, in the rain, on the bus- "What if they don't feel the same way, after all?"
So you date, and you're on top of the world. You're proud to tell people, "Oh, and this is my girlfriend/boyfriend."

You start to notice even more things you adore about them, they way his/her nose is shaped, their voice, the way they look at you, the way they seem to find it harder to let you go each time you leave them.
You begin to open up to them more, there's never an awkward silence, the silence becomes peaceful, it's hard for it to be anything but when you're lying in each other's arms.

And then you start to ache a little when you're without them. It's a terrible feeling, and it makes you want to spend even more time with them. It makes both of you even more affectionate when you meet.
They become more and more attractive to you everyday, you think of more and more things that you love about them.

Love.

Suddenly the thought crosses your mind. Things are beginning to progress, and now when you embrace them, when you touch, when you look into their eyes, when they make you laugh more than anyone else ever has, it is no longer sufficient to tell them, "You're amazing."
Amazing. Such a powerful word when you first used it to address them, so how can it no longer suffice? How can it no longer explain your feelings?
And then one of you plucks up the courage to blurt it out first, and as before, it could just be that one of you is more confident, or is as desperate to say it as you are, or perhaps they're just plain under the influence.
"I love you."

And then every moment you're with them is like pure sunshine. You feel on top of the world, when you're not with them it hurts, you can no longer last a week without them, hell, you can hardly handle a few days without them.
You like being alone with them, but not necessarily for the reasons that everyone else presumes, but because when you're both together, you feel like you could just die then and there. There is no one else, you don't want anyone else, this is it.

And it all sounds too good to be true.
And that's the catch.

Maybe not this year, maybe not next year, but one day you wake up, and the same things that you used to love about this person are the things that never cease to irritate you.
Their lame sense of humour, their brutal honesty, their dramatic nature, who knows what it is, but it annoys you.
Perhaps you can't even put your finger on what it is that irritates you so.
Perhaps you are resentful that you gave up your dreams to be with them.
Perhaps you finally realised that there are certain parts of people that you never really uncover until it's too late.

And it is too late.
Because you love them.
Don't you?
And love is unconditional.
So is this love?

And you spend a few months, maybe even a few years, in abject misery.
And then finally one of you comes out and says it.
It's not working.

And you go through the most heart-wrenching, painful time of your life.
You hate the world, you hate them, you hate yourself, you don't know where it all went wrong.
You begin to go numb, to feel nothing, to shut yourself off.
You swear never to love again, you don't even know if you believe in love anymore.
Everything is temporary, life is, so was this love.
You swear never to put yourself through so much pain again, so much stress, you're certain that you can live your whole life free of love, because it isn't real, it isn't unconditional, it never lasts.
If this is what love is, you don't want a bar of it.

And after a few months, maybe a few years, you meet someone.
Or perhaps they were there all along.
They make you laugh, they make you smile, but you keep you heart guarded.
You know how you felt last time. You know there's no point in risking hurting yourself and someone else again.

But love is mysterious, isn't it?

Cupid seems to be working away at you, and suddenly, you find yourself with that familiar ache in your stomach whenever this new love interest isn't nearby.

You're convinced that you'll never be able to love them after what happened last time.

But slowly, you want to love them.

And that scares you even more. You don't want to force anything, particularly something so fleeting, some feeling that doesn't seem worth the pain it causes.

You know you're supposed to love like you've never been hurt, but it's hard to put so much hurt out of your mind.

Eventually, you're willing.
Perhaps this person is the one, perhaps they treat you so much better than the person before them, perhaps you're their first love, perhaps they've been hurt before too.

And part of you thinks you must be crazy to put so much bitterness behind you, but suddenly, you don't even care if you get hurt.
You're deliriously happy again, and this is true sunshine.
And perhaps a little sunshine is worth a little pain every once in a while.