I love someone and can never be with him. Not really. There is no happily ever after. There isn’t even a tomorrow.

My heart, the blasted overreacting organ, it’s broken. Hurting. My chest aches. How is this even a thing?

Grasping for something, anything positive about this situation, I make a list.

Maybe I should just be happy he likes me. Great. He’ll never move beyond like.

I can get to know him a little better every day, but I can’t have those future moments, the little quirks and foibles that only come out when you’ve known someone forever and are truly comfortable because they know you too.

I want to know if he squeezes the toothpaste from the bottom. I want to know if he’s cranky when he’s sick. I want to do boring things with him, like sit on the couch after a long day and watch movies. I want our own secret language, a lexicon of words and gestures that only we understand. I want to have entire conversation with a single look—one that isn’t one-sided because I’m the only one who knows we’ve discussed something before a hundred times.

With Alex, I can have an endless string of these same twenty-four hours, but it’s not enough. It’s a slog every time to get to the ever-briefer moments of new, shiny stuff. I want it all to be brand new. I want all the hours. I want all the days. I want a future, the highs and lows and everything in between.

Maybe I’m selfish.

How many people out there would love an endless day with their person?

But even trying to hold on to gratitude doesn’t stop the hurt. He will never love me back. He can’t.

He won’t ever have the time to get to know me and fall in love with me. I have all this time with him, but for him, it’s just one day.

This is the worst unrequited love ever, because even if he likes me a lot, there’s no path forward.

My natural proclivity for avoidance returns with a fiery hot vengeance. If I stay isolated, I can’t be hurt. But I’m already hurt, so that doesn’t even make sense. More hurt. I can’t be more hurt.

I leave the apartment each day only to give Hugo his outfit—I can’t totally let him down. Even if it doesn’t fix everything, I’m not a monster.