She is: smart, funny, capable, independent, cute, hot, hard-working, and fun-loving. She takes her faith seriously. She is not a sister to me. She is my ideal woman. She makes me smile when I look at her, but frown because she's not mine. For what has literally been years, I have been content to have her happy, even if that happiness is not with or because of me. But I feel my star rising again. The time will soon come when I will see myself as worthy-- her best possible option. Given all this, I fear that I admire her wrongly.
Those qualities I listed about her are not bad; they are indeed admirable. Rather, my attraction to her is suspect precisely because I like her for fulfilling my ideal. If I'm honest, I have to admit that I don't know her. I don't. I really don't. I don't know most of her likes and dislikes. I don't know most of her tendencies and preferences. I don't know exactly her life's calling or even her tentative plans. I don't know at all what day her period comes.
Suddenly, her place in my memory becomes clear, and all I really know of her is from moments in the past. Our relationship is most accurately described as people that are acquaintances but, for whatever reason, interact like old friends. Suddenly, I am afraid that our shared upbringing counts for nothing, and even more that we are truly strangers and fated to remain so.
I absolutely hate unrequited love-- I believe it foolish. I remain open to any other possibility, but I find myself comparing every other girl to her. This situation is so unjust to those individuals; I find myself unable to ignore the fact that, no matter what other exceptional qualities they may exhibit, not one of them is her.
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