I used to know this guy at my school and you see he was deeply in love with this girl. They’d sit in front of me in Math class and he could not bare to see the girl, he looked at as if she had put the moon up in the sky by herself, struggle. So he tried to help her, comfort her, would worry about her at every sigh, ever sneeze. And she wasn’t interested in the slightest. 

I used to think that he was pathetic, keeping that crush up for so long, holding out hope, still holding her in the highest esteem while she crushed his heart over and over again. I even used to feel sorry for her, when all the unwanted attention would annoy her to no ends. 

But you see, I was somewhat friends with both of them. And so over time, I got to know that guy and found out how deeply, deeply troubled he was. He was incredibly unhappy, full of misery and guilt, fighting the demons of his past every week, every day and every minute of every hour. But when that girl smiled at him, laughed, spoke to him, gave him even the just the slightest bit of attention, he lit up. That one bit she would give to him would bring him such immense joy, it was absolutely incredible. And so, I no longer felt sorry for him and no longer thought he was pathetic, I was jealous of him. Because if I had ever loved someone so intensely, if someone had ever brought me that much relieve from my sorrows, I don’t think I would have given up either.