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Acceptance. An easy word to come by, but when put into practice, it isn't so great.

Accepting something takes courage, maturity and co-operation. Accepting something could be as easy as accepting the pair of shoes you were eager to buy are no longer on sale. However, accepting death is a million times harder than that and you would have to have extreme forgetfulness along with other attributes to accept this instantly. Saying this, there are many other things that take a long period of time to accept - situations that aren't as dire as death, but at the time you are experiencing them, it seems as if they are. Like accepting that no matter how hard you try and no matter how strong your emotions are, a person you love with all your heart doesn't have to love you back.

You see, just because you love someone doesn't mean they are obligated to do the same. You could dedicate your entire life to them, but if they don't return the same feelings as you, the only reward you will get out of doing such a tediously consuming task is, at best, a smile. You'll get a quick 'thanks' and that'll be it. And then how will you feel? Useless and unwanted. And do we really want that? 'No' is the answer. You have to accept that they don't feel the same way and attempt to move on with your life. However hard that may seem, you have to, because the person you love already has.

You may wonder how I know all this. The truth is - I don't. Or I do, so instead I act the complete opposite. Instead of begging and pleading for somebody's love, I mask the longing and affection with coldness and many, many arguments. Oh, don't worry; I'm not a horrible, cold-hearted person who looks down their nose at everyone. Honestly, I'm not in the position to do so. And even if I were, I wouldn't. No, I'm just awkward, cruel, ghastly and distant towards one person and one person only. And unfortunately, that person happens to be the boy I love.

Love seems like such a strong word, but it is the only way I can describe my feelings for him. I love the way he rubs the back of his neck when he gets nervous. I love the way he blushes when he is embarrassed or shy. However, he isn't perfect and I'm not going to pretend he is either. He can do things that infuriate me so much, but if anybody else did them, I wouldn't care at all.

Well, I suppose I shouldn't expect so much from someone who doesn't know the difference between a girl that lusts after him and a girl that loves him. I shouldn't assume that he knows why I blush when he compliments me. I shouldn't even contemplate the idea that maybe, just maybe, he likes me a whole lot more than he lets on. That is what I'm trying to avoid at all costs. But it's like a broken trolley with a wonky wheel in a supermarket - the more you try to push yourself in the right direction, the more the trolley is determined to bring you back to where you were to begin with. I try to block my feelings for him behind a brick wall; my way of moving on like I have just advised. I thought I had to. I thought he had moved on when he obtained a new love interest.

But apparently I was wrong.