After I wrote this, I went back and re-read it. I laughed because of the melodrama.
However, I let two sisters and two friends read it. They said they cried and that it left them feeling depressed. I suppose I only laughed because I was the author.
What feeling does it give you?
Once upon a time, there was a girl. She was not an ordinary girl, but no one knew this. Everyone—her aunts, uncles, cousins, parents, grandparents and brothers and sister—all thought she was quite normal.
This girl had a heart that was broken. Like Eleanor from Sense and Sensibility she had a secret love that she could tell no one about. She loved a boy, but the boy did not love her back. And unlike Eleanor, she knew with certainty that the boy was her friend. Only her friend.
So this girl, this unordinary girl, lived an ordinary life. She worked, laughed, sang, and enjoyed her small circle of family and friends. She lived as if her heart were whole, and every time she lost a piece of it to the boy that she loved, she would pretend as if the piece were still intact. She lived the life of a woman who had never endured rejection, but every day that she loved a boy that did not love her back, she endured a silent rejection that a month of tears could never mourn.
Therefore, the girl hoped, the girl waited, the girl dreamed. In the moments when she was alone, she would laugh at herself and call herself crazy. Then she would cry. She would cry so hard that she feared her chest would burst.
Once, when she was sitting at the dinner table with several aunts, uncles, cousins, sisters, brothers, and her parents, she placed a hand over her heart and remarked, “My chest hurts.”
In a family such as hers, such remarks must be repeated several times in a series of days in order for anyone to take notice. Perhaps she received a look from one or two aunts that could be understood as sympathy. But those looks were quickly distracted by something more important.
It was no matter. The girl did not want sympathy. The girl did not want someone to understand. The girl did not want an excuse to eat chocolate or weep in public. The girl only wanted the boy to love her. And she knew the boy never would.