Why Unrequited Love Sucks

Spoiler: It has nothing to do with them

Let me tell you the humiliating story of when I behaved pathetically when I once loved a man who didn’t feel the same way. We were in our early twenties and had known each other for over three years. He lived in London, I lived in Birmingham, and every few months, I would receive that heartstopping text.

It would be great to catch up in person sometime. When are you next back in London?

Reader, I never had a reason to go to London. I have no ties there, and quite frankly, I absolutely hate the city. However, whenever I received one of those texts, I would devise a convenient reason I needed to be in London in the next week, and the two of us would meet up for coffee. So I would take the stupidly expensive train ride down to London, which I couldn’t afford on my £6.50 per hour bookselling job, and travel the two hours to London just for a couple of hours just for a coffee with a guy who would then proceed to use me as a sounding board for his failing love life.

Every time I came down, there was a new woman on his mind, and I, being the fool that I was, would lap it up, comfort him, praying one day he would see that I was the only emotionally consistent woman in his life, who would spend over £100 at the drop of a hat and travel four hours just to have a coffee with him for two hours…