Unrequited love - often the inspiration for bards, lyricists, poets, and writers. It's what every hopeless romantic wants as it makes for some good stories, yet is often the cause of dismal heartbreak.

There I sat, in the dark of my bedroom, weeping like a schoolgirl with out of control hormones. A grown man. In the dark. Sappy romantic music playing in the background. Crying my guts out. Not a pretty sight by any means.

A few minutes earlier, I just finished having The Talk with the Unattainable Woman of My Dreams. I still remember vividly to this day sitting out in her car in my apartment parking lot with the rain making dippy dop sounds on the roof. And feeling my heart shatter into an infinite number of shards, piercing my soul over and over. It was over. There would be no more hoping, no more dreams.

When I met Her several years earlier, somehow I knew then that what I wanted was probably never going to be a possibility. After all, she *did* have a boyfriend at the time. I was just this guy she barely knew who just happened to share some common interests. But I held out hope that someday my love would be requited. For two years I held out this hope. Forsaking all other women and relationships. Forsaking potential dates and deeper friendships. All for Her.

It all began once upon a time during my sophomore year in college. My best friend Scott had just started fencing and suggested that I do the same. After finding some information about the fencing club, I decided to drop by one of their meetings. As I approached the meeting room, I could hear metal clanging against metal. Suddenly, my childhood shyness and anxiety took ahold of me in a death grip and I was too nervous to enter the room. Instead, I peered through the doorway to observe in silence. It was then that I saw Her...

She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen - thin, athletic, with wavy long brown hair that cascaded over her back to her waist. She had large, captivating brown eyes, and in that brief moment, I was instantly smitten with her. Never before I had reacted so strongly to anyone. And this was only seeing her from afar. If you thought I was shy before, there was no way I was going into the room now.

Running from the scene with my tail tucked between my legs, I vowed I would return when I was more prepared. What little courage I had before I saw Her I lost in that moment. My resolve was shattered and I fled the gymnasium with my emotions all tumultuous and confusing.

Over the next few months, I wrote her several semi-anonymous poems, glorifying her beauty and grace. I was still too shy to talk to her. No matter how much I tried or wanted, I could never get up enough courage to approach her. I secretly hoped that she would be able to decipher my Elvish name which I signed on the poems I sent to her.

One day, I found a note waiting for me as I entered the fencing room. It was from Her. She wanted to hear from me again. My heart leapt as the opportunity presented itself. All my hard work had paid off. Of course upon realizing the consequences of the events I set in motion, the very next moment I felt like I was about to lose everything I had just eaten that day. It's amazing how women can have that effect on us men.

We became fast friends and were nearly inseparable after that. When she wasn't doing stuff with her boyfriend, she was hanging out with me. And during the occassions when the three of us were together, I watched and I waited. I observed what things she liked, what things she didn't like. I made mental notes on what to do and what not to do. Yes, she had a boyfriend, but I was going to learn from watching him, and be her ultimate boyfriend. Two years I carried on this research project, biding my time.

Finally at some point, I decided to lay it all on the line. Do or die. I planned the ultimate romantic evening for her, hoping to sway her enough to fall into my heart. When she arrived at my apartment that night, the mood was perfect. Candles all over the room and on the table, a red rose awaited her on her plate. I had cooked one of her favorite dishes and had her favorite Ben & Jerry ice cream stashed away in the freezer. I put on some Vivaldi (her favorite classical music) while we dined. And afterwards, we danced...

We danced holding each other, her face against my chest and my chin on her shoulder. I was in heaven. It felt so right. Before she left for the evening, I even serenaded her with a few songs I had picked out beforehand. If all this did nothing to her heart, then I was content to let her go. Still, I hoped...

Eventually, she needed to leave to go pick up her boyfriend from work. And the wonderful evening was at an end. I gave her one last tight embrace and walked her to her car. Starlight danced in her big brown eyes as she gazed adoringly at me. I thought I had a halfway decent chance.

Fast forward to The Talk we had a few weeks later. I sat there in her car after an outing and my heart wept as we decided that friends was all we could be. Each raindrop hitting the roof of her car seemed to be another nail driven into my heart, drumming out a mournful dirge. What I knew in my heart all along, yet refused to accept had finally come to fruition. What I had known two years earlier was now a reality.

Dragging my heart on the wet pavement, I walked slowly back to my apartment, in agonizing heartache. Without a word, I headed straight into my room where I finally broke down in a big, blubbery wet mess. Two years of emotions poured out in a cascade of tears, chokes, sobs, and silent screams. I knew it was Over.

Despite putting my heart through almost unendurable torture, I have never regretted having gone through all that I did. Out of it all, I learned more about myself than I ever possibly could have. I had some of my most memorable moments of life with Her. A beautiful, deep, caring friendship was the end result - one I wouldn't trade for the world.