In search of self worth

A first love experience

Even though he knew that using his thoughts on someone that didn’t cherish the peculiar way his flowers grow was useless, he still used all the adjectives and metaphors he learned from all those books to describe what he felt for her and what his heart felt the moment she allowed him to know what her mind thought about him. Even though she didn’t use words, she made sure to make her thought clear; she didn’t care a shit about him.
He thought about giving it another shot, could he really just give up? No. He doesn’t want to. But he has to. The truth was that it wasn’t 'giving up', instead it could be described as 'moving on'. Still, he calls it 'giving up'. 'Failing'. 'Not putting enough effort'. Or just 'not being enough'. He believes in the idea that every person has light and that they should be treated without paying attention at the shadows that their flaws create, until the shadow gets most of the person’s personality. The idea that you shouldn’t ignore your flaws, but instead focus on the good sides that you surely have. The idea that you should make yourself a priority now and then without being arrogant. And yet, he could not apply his beliefs on himself. He thinks that he is worthless, useless, annoying, stressful, the overreacting type of person, like if not talking to him was the same as not losing a thing.
The people he loves told him the opposite, the complete opposite to the bad thoughts he has about himself. He started to believe in himself, little by little, step by step.
But he saw her again, at that moment he thought “No, it’s doesn’t means a thing to me anymore”. He left while repeating those words to himself. Again. Again. Again. Until he convinced himself. But what happened when he arrived home? She started to appear in his head; her beautiful and not so big eyes, her black hair, her tall and very thin body, the way she walks, her peculiar gestures and the way her face lights up when she talks about the things she likes. All of that was never meant to be seen by the normal eyes of his. Maybe they weren’t meant to meet but a fool like him never listens, one day he decides to say “Hello! What’s your name?”, without knowing that he just created the reason of him losing his self esteem somewhere in the street where they used to walk together almost every day. But it’s something he can’t change. Another thing that doesn’t ends well. Not a surprise. Could he get more used to it?
He was surprised that the people around him didn’t leave, maybe it was because he wasn’t himself. People say that it’s better to say an oops than a what if, he remembered this philosophy and it didn’t work, he even regrets it. But he can’t travel in time. He must learn to be a little bit stronger, that some things pop into his life to teach him a new lesson, or make him attend the same class until he learns the damn lesson.
He only needs time, he always feels better after some time, he doesn’t need to talk about it, he only needs to use the same strategy: waiting. Time doesn’t cure him but at least it attends its wounds temporally. He doesn’t even need to walk in the same street to find the trust in himself, he will find it somewhere else, a place that will welcome him with arms wide open, and it doesn’t have to be a place in its literal meaning, people say that a home can have two eyes and a heartbeat.