He Loves Me, I Love Him Not

His name was Kurt and he loved me for as long as I could remember. He was always paying for my coffee on break, walking me home, and just being an all-around nice guy. The truth is, Kurt was a great guy, and I knew he may have had a thing for me, but it was never discussed between us until it had to be.

For many years Kurt and I spent time together. While I had boyfriends and did what all normal young women do, Kurt stayed loyally at my side, never finding romantic love of his own. He reminded me of a watchdog. When he didn’t like someone I was seeing, he was confident in saying so. But he also supported my decisions and talked me down when I got stupid ideas in my head. He was the best friend a girl could ask for. But I never wanted more.

I liked Kurt, I truly did. I would even say I loved him.

He was smart and funny, nice to look at, and he thought the world of me. But whatever chemistry is needed for a girl to want a boy as more than a friend didn’t exist. Many would tell me I was being foolish, or that I was leading him on. I didn’t think it was foolish to have a friend such as Kurt. And as no words of longing had ever been exchanged, I didn’t believe I was leading him on either. The heart wants what it wants and well, there’s nothing to be done for that.

After years of hanging out together, even our parents had started to talk. While I had multiple boyfriends and held no secrets about my adventurous sex life, Kurt still stood by. I found out later that his mom would always tell him to just have patience. When the time was right, it would happen. Maybe she was right, but about the girl, she was very wrong.

After much pressure from my peers, not to mention a couple of well-meaning influential adults, I finally gave in. Although Kurt never formally asked me to be his girlfriend, I agreed to be. I think I said something like, “Let’s give it a go.”

Not a good start in my opinion.

Our relationship became awkward almost immediately. A new title changed the dynamic, and while I had plenty of experience, Kurt had very little. I would chuckle when his hand would sweat as he held my own, unlatching myself from him to wipe my palm across my pants, drying it off.  Our interactions were now very unsure when in the past they had been open and carefree.

Our first kiss was sloppy and amateurish too. He was unsure what to do with his tongue, doing this strange flicking action, like a serpent tasting for the smell of me. It was an instant turn-off and I tried to correct him, but he didn’t seem to get what I was saying. I remember telling myself afterward that it was his lack of experience. While I had been learning how to use my tongue as a tool, he had been at home, with visions of me.

But to be honest, it was just…bad.

After that first kiss, I endeavored to try again. A part of me was worried that I would be letting people down if it seemed I was too hasty in detaching myself. Another part of me worried about Kurt and what would happen to our friendship. We had been friends and inseparable for so long, and I didn’t want to lose that.

After several attempts at sexual intimacy, I knew it wasn’t going to happen. But in order to not hurt Kurt, I had to try. The only problem was, the more I tried to force it, the further away from Kurt I wanted to be. We never did have sex. To be honest, I don’t think Kurt was quite there yet, or maybe he needed someone more assertive. But truthfully, I think the real reason is there wasn’t a single part of me that was interested in Kurt in a sexual way. Without me saying it, Kurt knew it too.

Eventually, I became completely unavailable to Kurt. The more he would ask to spend time with me, the farther I would push him away. He eventually came to understand that we had made a mistake and decided that it was for the best if we didn’t try to create something that wasn’t there any longer. When he expressed this to me, he wasn’t sad, as I had erroneously thought he would be. Instead, he said that he knew that I loved him, I just didn’t love him in the way he had hoped I would. Those words were very true.

I guess that’s the issue with unrequited love. We believe it’s completely non-existent when it could be that we just don’t recognize love in all its forms.

Sometimes the love you want isn’t the love you need.

Kurt and I eventually drifted apart. Our relationship was never the same after that. But I learned a valuable lesson from that time in my life: What others think of me is none of my business. Life is much simpler when you stop following the masses. Also, sometimes the M is silent.

After 18 years of no contact, I ran into Kurt, in the most unexpected place. A lifestyle event. He’s a submissive now himself, happy and loving every minute of it.

To see who else is talking about Unrequited Love for #wickedwednesday, hit the bullseye.

For more about the life of MrsK, see Submissive Journal.

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