Reblogged from shelikesitlit
Artist: Joseph Wierenga
you know what—i love this and think it’s beautiful…
but goddamn. does any artist in the *WORLD* think that women who have an unrequited love are worth exploring? any one? bueller? the *BIGGEST* reason I listened to alanis morrisette all those years ago, on repeat, until the tape wore out (jesus, I went through, like, three cassette tapes of that jaged little pill album), was almost solely for that line—it’s meeting the man of your dreams, and then meeting his *beautiful* wife…
and I think the whole reason brigette jone’s diary and sixteen candles are so popular is because OMG HEY!!!! GURLS FALL IN LOVE WITH MEN WHO AREN’T INTERESTED TOO!!! AND THAT DOESN”T MAKE A GURL SAD PATHETIC LOSER—THAT MAKES HER A HUMAN BEING LIKE FUCKING SHAKESPEARE AND BOB DYLAN AND EVERY SINGLE CHARACTER JOHN CUSAK HAS EVER PLAYED!!!!!!
***holds boom box over my head***
I loved a guy once. And he didn’t want me. And I never told him I wanted him. Because I knew he’d never want me. And if I had changed how I looked he still wouldn’t have wanted me. And if I had given him head he still wouldn’t have wanted me. And if I had taken off my glasses and swung my hair around he still wouldn’t have wanted me. Because guys are these odd sort of creatures that may not smoke cigerettes while they stare off into the distance on a rainy day in France while sitting in a coffee shop—but they DO focus entirely too much on sports and depend way to much on the approval of their man friends.
***turns up boom box louder***
i really loved that guy and wrote a lot of really bad horrible stories based on my love for him. I imagined a world that would allow him to see me—and kinda didn’t really like that world because part of what was so charming about him was how excited he got about skateboarding and the way his eyes lit up when talking about it. Skateboarding was HIS love.
But I didn’t see that then, and I especially couldn’t see it when he was walking all over school with the blond hooked onto his arm. he and I were *friends*—but she had him. She went to his competitions—but she didn’t know how his eyes lit up, the way I did.
***sets down boombox to better wipe tears***
it hurts to not be loved back. and to not be loved back happens to ALL of us, not just Ernest Hemmingway wannabe dudes who loved a girl in france once. And just like that girl from France gets up out of the coffee shop and walks away for ever, never once looking back at the dude whose heart is broken—the same thing happens to ALL the rest of us. We NEVER turn into cinderella, only to find out that our man loved us when we were ugly too and aren’t we lucky. And only every once in a while does that skater boy grow the fuck up and love us back, just as we are or come to find us at our sister’s wedding. and as amazingly right on as jordan catalano was as a first love for angela—the *truth* is the vast majority of us never would’ve even gotten Jordan. Most of us would’ve been Brian, fucking obnoxious assholes to the girl who expressed interest because she’s gets in the way of looking at Angela.
That is the nature of love. The vast majority of the time it is heart break. And unrequited. That’s what makes finding it so amazing and special.
and Jesus ABOVE life would just be so much easier if doods didn’t hold this extra special place where being rejected by a girl in france made you awesome and girls didn’t hold this extra shitty place where being rejected by skateboarder made her a loser and all the rest of us were never going to get a date any damn way because no amount of cinderella fairy princess could ever get us to see without our glasses on.
**turns off boom box**
I loved a guy once. And it was a perfect love and he was beautiful and I never told him I loved him and my heart hurt so hard for so long, i don’t think I breathed my entire senior year.
And then I started dating people, and I realized I loved gurls too, and then I found a life partner and I figured out for the first time that love is hard and then we fought endlessly for months over money and I realized again that love is hard and then we realized we were too poor to get a divorce so we had to keep trying and I realized that not only is love hard, it’s fucking HARD ASS WORK and falling in love is only the beginning—and I don’t think back about that skater boy whose eyes I knew very often, but when i do, I think of him fondly because it wasn’t really love, it was falling in love—and there would’ve been a day with him too when his shiny eyes wouldn’t have been enough to pay the bills and I would’ve fallen asleep dreaming about how I could gouge his eyes out with my bare fingernails…but for a short period in my life, i, working class gurl, knew what it felt like to love without labor. and it hurt and i couldn’t breath and jealousy was my constant companion.
but to love without labor is a beautiful thing. and it helps you to understand what you’re fighting for when you find yourself stuck loving in the war years. just like art does. which is why it’d be amazing if people who are NOT white doods in love with a girl in a tea shop had some time on the drawing board as well.