Bittersweet Happiness

I saw him today. Only for a couple of minutes, but it was enough. A couple of minutes was all it took to be slammed with overwhelming joy. One smile. One smile was all it took for my heart to soar. One word. One word was music–a hypnotic melody tempting my resolve. And those eyes . . . those clear blue eyes. . . how can anyone ever look away from them?! Finally, that hug. It took all I had in me to pull away. I struggled to let go. I wanted to hang onto him forever . . . all I could think about was how much I wanted him to be the first person I saw and heard in the morning, and the last person I heard and saw before falling asleep at night–for the rest of my life.

But the truth is, I can’t have him.

I struggle with my want of him. He’s genuinely happy with someone else. And that’s cool. I don’t know how to explain it. These feelings are confusing. It’s was so good to see him so happy, even if I wasn’t the cause of it. But that  feeling was bittersweet.

Today, was the happiest I’ve felt in seven months. It’d been seven months since I last saw him.  I  wish it’d been seven months since we last communicated. Then maybe I’d be over him. I thought I was. I thought I had moved on. But I haven’t.

I still don’t understand my extreme emotions when it comes to him. They took me  just as by surprise today, as they did the first time I realized I had them. I love him. Without a doubt I do. And honestly, I don’t mind the rejection. It does make me pretty sad. I’ll admit, after the euphoric happiness subsided and reality kicked in, I wept.  But the tears were just as much from sadness as they were tears of a relief  at knowing I’m capable of loving so strongly.