A Different Kind of Heartache.

Truth be told, I’ve never been in love. Yet it’s 2:07 a.m. Again. And I can’t stop thinking about you. For never having been in love, you sure taught me about heartache

I have always known that my heart would be broken — its inherently human. However, I was naive and blindsided to the idea that an aching heart of one who has lost a lover could be produced by never having loved at all.

Here’s a warning to all the ladies (and lads) out there. You will be in love one day. That’s true. It might in end in roses, but you also might leave with your heart irrevocably shattered. If the media has one thing right, this is it.

You’ll also meet your false love, or what I like to call the ‘never-love.’ He will sound like folk rock, smell like summer rain, and look like pine trees at midnight. You will say you love each other. Later you will recognize those words were said in a moment of awkward youth and weakness. A constant feeling of restlessness will permeate your relationship.

Fast forward. A handful of years down the road you will realize love is far deeper than three syllables. It took you long enough, but you finally woke up to the churning ocean that was always present, rocking the boat of your relationship. You will each part ways. All will be merry and well.

Right? Because that’s exactly how it should go. If you were never in love in the first place no slivers of glass should be crushed beneath your feet. For some reason though, little pools of blood form as you attempt to move forward. Every step aggravates the glass digging into your skin, and you are forced to face the reality that every step forward is really a step backward. You sit down. Pause. Pick out the glass, mend the wounds. Nothing seems to make sense anymore.

It is the never-love curse. A different kind of heartache. It manifests in a variety of ways; insomnia, self-criticism, shoddy vulnerability, a complete 360 change in your taste of music. The first few months will be plagued by the occassional desire to never leave your bed and thoughts surrounding the big question: ‘what the hell was that?’

Depending on who you are, moving forward from the never-love will look similair to a 12-step program, or the recovery from true love heartbreak. This may include: a drastic haircut, too many drinks one night, forming a deep bond with your laptop, withdrawl from what you love, yo-yo workout plans.

While the symptoms of the never-love heartache will not be dissimilar to true heartbreak there is a difference. It lies in the ache of your heart for the love you wish it had been. The pain is arguably more intolerable because love was never present in the first place.

The good news is this: the 2 a.m. nights will subside, that haircut will grow on you (and maybe become your signature look), you will regain new friendships, and return to your passions with a new kind of fury. Never falling in love will teach you about the veracity of emotions, not the shallowness of what you think you know.

There will be worse 2:07’s, better 2:07’s, stronger 2:07’s. Despite how many nights you are greeted by those three numbers, you’ll know that the never-love heartache was worthwhile because you know more about the brevity of love by never having experienced it at all.

SADNESS.

You don’t know why. You can’t explain or articulate it. You’re just sad.
You feel it start to wash over you like a massive wave breaking directly on your head.

You’re sad. Even worse, you have no idea why you’re sad, so in addition to the sadness, there’s also a helplessness because you can’t explain it. You look for reasons or causes, but find none. You try to pinpoint it, but it remains elusive. There’s no logic behind it. But it’s there. You don’t dare tell anyone because they’ll first ask why and, when you don’t have an answer, they’ll tell you to cheer up. Some may even list all of the reasons why you shouldn’t be sad.

They obviously don’t understand.

If it were a lack of money or food or love, you would know it and at least try to rectify it. Instead, it’s frustrating because you feel like you should be grateful for what you do have — “There are a lot of people much worse off than you!” many parents have announced — and instead you’re depressed for no reason. Tough love doesn’t help. A person telling you to snap out of it only pushes you deeper into your funk because it’s not a conscious decision. You’re not feeling this way on purpose. It’s not like you want to be this way. You don’t know what caused it and so you don’t know what will cure it. No matter what you try, nothing works. The things that bring you joy — and usually bring you out of your funk — hold no interest to you. You don’t want to listen to your favorite songs. You don’t want to watch your favorite movies. You don’t want to respond to calls or texts or emails. You don’t even feel like taking a walk let alone going to the gym. You don’t know what you want to do, you just know what you don’t want to do, which feels like everything.

You know that it’s a phase, one we all go through, and that the only medicine is time. That’s comforting, at least for a moment or two. After all, this too shall pass.

Eventually.