Thoughts of an Unrequited Love Addict

I've been thinking a lot about unrequited love lately. I'm not quite sure what sparked this thought process which lead me down the road to writing a blog post about it, but it seems to be a subject highly prevalent in my life (well, in everybody's life). As humans, it's something we seem to be drawn to, like a mormon mom to a craft sale.

So, why is it that the idea of the unobtainable is so alluring to us? Why do we return to touch the fire even after we've been burned? I decided to reflect upon my own experiences with this dreadful disease to see maybe why I, more often than not, struggle with the aftermath of unrequited love.

My first experience lasted 4 years. I was young and silly and wanted what every teenage girl traversing the mad waters of high school wants- someone to tell them they're pretty. And boy was he the one I believed should do just that. In my heart I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with that boy and I didn't care who knew it. Of course, when he did come to know it (which didn't take very long in my small hometown), he made sure to let everyone know, through word and deed, that he in no way felt the same. Nevertheless, I remained steadfast in my feelings, sure that patience would win him over in the end.

As life moved on, he served a mission for our church, and I ventured off to college. Along side my clothing sat the baggage that came with unrequited love. I had this obsession with loving and being loved in return. It drove my existence from senior year of high school until recently. It really didn't matter who it was, if there was something (even a very shallow something) I took it and ran with it.

Ultimate example of unrequited love

That carried over in to my second experience. I fell madly in love with him, and I mean madly. Luckily, for a while it was returned. We dated and everything was great— until we broke up, that is. Then I was left reading a rereading old love letters, gazing at old pictures, and pining after what once was.

For the next few months years, no matter how hard I tried I just could not seem to get over him; I still can't. The saddest part is, is that my love was returned fo a long while; I was just too convinced that there was no way he could ever feel the same to reach out and grab the very thing that occupied my dreams. It was heart wrenching. I had managed to become so obsessed with this idea of unrequited love that I ran from real, true love when it came knocking at my door.

Why? Why would I trash something that meant so much to me so fast? This question has kept me up at night many times, and after some serious consideration, I believe I have found the answer.

It was safe. Loving him at a distance, convincing myself that I was the victim, gave me the opportunity to run from what I was really afraid of: commitment. This realization was foreign to me. For the durration of the time we spent pining over one another after our break-up, I "moved on" (or at least, that what I told myself I did), dated other people—I even got engaged!

So how was I running from commitment? I knew that dating him would ultimately lead to marriage. These other guys, they were great, don't get me wrong, but there was not a lot there. We were lacking the substance and a strong foundation that successful, healthy relationships often have. All three followed the same pattern: we'd meet, think the other was attractive and funny (smart, witty, etc.), and then start dating all of a few days later. On what grounds could we build something more?

In March, I returned to speak with the man whom I had decided to leave my heart with during this time. I had hurt him—left him to taste the same bitterness of unrequited love that I so deeply hated. I begged for another chance to show him that I cared, that everything I did was a mistake.

Unfortunately, the cut was too deep this time, and he left me sitting in my pool of self-pity once more, accompanied only by my familiar companion of unrequited love. I could not function for days. I let everything come crashing down around me as I realized that this time the pain was real. While I was busy pretending that I was the one being hurt, the man who was really suffering built up a resistance to the very thing he longed for: me.

Now, here I am, many months later, mulling over my options. I had my grieving time. I cried, I screamed, I threw temper tantrums alone in my room. I prayed to God every night that I wouldn't have to feel the pain I felt. And it never came (not saying that this affected my relationship or love for my Heavenly Father, I just now understand why I experienced the pain I did).

So what next? Now, I move on. I accept the fact that my feelings are not returned and they never will be. Is this the right option for everyone? No, I wouldn't say so. For some, as it was earlier in my relationship with this man, I would say there's the option to share your feelings with the person and discover if what you believe is unrequited love is, in fact, not. Had I womaned up and accepted the fact that he loved me very deeply, and that with him I would have been happy, instead of playing 'poor-me' all that time, I would have avoided the pain I felt later on.

So, for me, the answer is now to move on; to realize that happiness does not rest in getting what we want right now. President Uchtdorf gave a touching talk at General Conference on October 1, 2011, entitled "Forget Me Not". Oh how my heart is filled with the love I have for the servants of the Lord, who care deeply enough about me and my fellow brothers and sisters, to stand before us multiple times a year and provide us with loving guidance and direct counsel from the Lord.

In his talk, President Uchtdorf likens our pursuit of happiness to the pursuit of the golden tickets in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. The minute the people find out the significance of finding those shiny pieces of paper they go a-wall trying to find them, as if their only sorce of happiness from here to eternity is that one golden ticket. In response to this attitude of 'once I have this, then I'll be happy', our beloved Second counselor says this:

“The happiest people I know are not those who find their golden ticket; they are those who, while in pursuit of worthy goals, discover and treasure the beauty and sweetness of the everyday moments.” 

This is what I have come to realize is my solution. I had spent all of those years searching and pining and longing for my golden ticket in love, that I missed the small moments that I could have found much joy in. That is why I believe we all struggle with unrequited love. We see matrimony as our one golden ticket, and the second we even think it's not possible, the world seems to end for us until we once again get a glimpse of that shiny golden piece of paper.

I hope that both you and I can learn to find joy in the "now". I have tried with all my might to do that now, and even my small, simple steps have proven to be monumental in my life. Already I am able to see that my life is not incomplete because I am alone. Reality is, I am never alone. I have a family who loves me to the moon and back, and roommates who support me when I'm struggling. Most importantly, I have a Savior who gave his life so that I could enjoy an eternity with him, my family, and one day (whenever that day is), my spouse.

I am so grateful for the peace I have found in this, and I hope that you can find peace in your struggles as well. Know that you are loved, by me and your Savior.

UPDATE: If religion isn't your thing, music always helps too, especially when it's uplifting. I've found comfort in both my religion and in song. Particularly this song my roommate showed me after learning about my situation: