What is the rational amount of time and energy a person should spend in the pursuit of someone who may or may not be interested in return?
Wherever you go, you carry around a little effigy in your pocket, it sometimes sits on your shoulder, sometimes peeks out the front of your jacket pocket, sits beside you while you sip your coffee and pour hollandaise on your eggs. It sits on your table, and on those mornings where your heart has sunk to your stomach, where you are left alone with the expanding feeling of quiet loneliness, you stare at it sitting there and you face the reality that this figurine is not and never will be real. It is but a clump of cloth and wool and drumsticks in the shape of ‘somebody’, to which you have attached all the little trinkets and charms you have collected along the way; memories and moments over time, sewn, glued and pinned in the hope your little soft doll, would be visited by the Blue Fairy one moonlit night and turn it into a real person.
You know that fairy tales don’t come true, not in this reality, and yet you continue to nurse and keep this puppet close to your heart because it has become your lifeline; your float that keeps you from drowning in the thunderous ocean that is heartache. Yet you hold on, you nurture the idea of the ‘somebody’ transitioning from beyond the veil, where you can’t touch them, flirting in and out of sight to finally stepping through the curtain into your reality.
However, no matter how hard the candle of hope burns you cannot turn a blind eye to the true fact that your doll is nothing more than a statue. It had no feelings to return, no glint in its eye that expressed emotions, no words to respond with to your proclamations of grand future plans. It stared on back at you, ever present, yet ungiving.
Beep. Beep. The texts were all that you received from beyond the veil, casual friendly messages in response to your prying inquisitions. You wondered whether you should break the line, but you didn’t want to drown either. Friendship was better than having no ship to be tethered to, in this ocean you feared so intensely, you thought. He was real, yet he lived in another reality, which despite your attempts to reach his dimension, was not possible. Yet, you hoped, and continued with each passing day to keep the candle burning so he may find his way through with the Blue Fairy’s help, from wherever his world was to yours. So you may one day wake up not next to a doll but to the ‘somebody’ with his arms around you and his long hair all tangled up in your own, to say a real good morning in return.
But, how much longer should you continue to keep your secret made up figure of cotton and wool and one-dimensional emotions, before something or nothing ever happens?