Now, you're probably thinking, "But that's terrible! Love is the most wonderful thing in the universe! You must have been so happy!" I was and I wasn't. Let me explain.
I was extremely nuts over a nice little Catholic boy for about eight years (yes, I'm only 20 years old). I mean, basically worshipped the ground his cute little sneakers walked on. He was perfection, and I was nothing, could never even attain his height of goodness. He had an aura of light around him, was everything to me, and was incredibly sweet and nice in the bargain. He also was not attracted to me in the slightest, and was only casually civil whenever our paths crossed. I did the whole "love from afar" thing for many years. In other words, I barely knew him as an actual human being. However, I also didn't want to pursue him overtly, because I didn't want to bring him down to my level, or taint his purity in any way. He was too good for me. So I'd see him at school and sigh and pine, but never actually do anything about it, because 1) I wasn't worthy and 2) I'm a very shy person, and used to think that if a girl asked a guy out, she was a slut. No, no one told me this...I developed that theory all on my own. I've since gotten over that, but anywho...
Then one day, out of the clear blue sky, he invited me to go to a youth group with him. I had no idea what this meant, but was incredibly flattered that he actually wanted to see me. I spent many days in fervent anticipation, then the day actually came. I got all dressed up in a nice outfit, did makeup and everything (wanted to make a good impression, you know), and he picked me up. We went to church. I couldn't believe it. I spent two or three hours listening to a bunch of fellow teenagers talk about Jesus, and saw Catholic rites of Mass and Euchrist. It was incredibly boring...and when he asked me to go the next week, I jumped at the chance, anything to be around him.
Turns out his entire invitation was an attempt to convert me to Catholicism. If I had refused his invitation, he probably would have invited anybody else. Needless to say this was very hurtful, but gosh he was SUCH a nice person, and I loved him so much, that I continued to go to youth groups with him.
Well, we did this for about nine months, during which I actually enjoyed myself. I made friends at the group, and had lots of fun, and continued to pine after him. I asked him to dances and the like, which he would repeatedly turn down; however, we'd end up dancing together anyway. We would also occasionally go to the movies and do other stuff outside of listening to people lecture about God. Occasionally we were mistaken for a couple, and I never corrected anyone who assumed so, as it was very flattering. I enjoyed being around him, but had this constant nagging feeling that I never really knew him...whenever we were together, I'd end up doing most of the talking, while he nodded his head and went, "Mm-hm." Consequently I learned very little about his interests.
I also learned the nearly limitless depths of my patience, and developed a slight martyr complex about it. In other words, I prided myself on my suffering, and my ability to tolerate unrequited love. Eventually, however, I broke down and confessed in an e-mail. I then spent the most uncomfortable hour of my life at the local TCBY, sitting silently in a booth with him, each of us avoiding eye contact over Oreo parfaits. It was excrutiating.
Shortly afterwards, he went to college several states away. I didn't hear from him for several months, then in approximately January 2001 we went to what was most likely our final youth group trip. I kissed him on the cheek (while he was in midsentence, and he kept on talking) for the first time, and he told me he would be back in town around March. This of course implied I would be seeing him at that time.
March came and went, and I never heard from him. Eventually, in June, I got sick of waiting around, and e-mailed him. I received a very cryptic, generic e-mail in reply...the sort you would give to a casual acquaintence or co-worker. I e-mailed him back, and have yet (I write this in November) to receive a reply to my e-mail. Instead, about a month ago I received a manila envelope in the mail, with pamphlets about some church in Michigan (the last I heard from him, he was in college in Virginia...when the hell did he move back here?), asking me to send money to this church. He is fully aware that I am an agnostic...in fact, that was one of our major "issues" (we would routinely get into moral and philosophical debates on things like abortion--that was a big one--the death penalty, gay rights, and especially politics). I am so incredibly insulted that he is attempting to use me to make money for something he knows I have no interest in supporting. Not to mention, the church is actually a convent, for monks. Which of course implies that he is becoming a monk, or a priest, or some other celibate profession. This is doubly insulting, because it is a terrible blow to my ego and personal femininity. It's also rather ironic, because I know he's attracted to girls...he's mentioned a few girls who he likes (suffice to say, not me), and talked about it. He's going to have a hard time (no pun intended).
I'm not entirely bitter over this experience, because I've learned a few things.
1) Never fall for nice little Catholic boys...guilt can travel via osmosis, and pass onto you.
2) If you're attracted to someone, and they don't show the least bit of interest in you save as that of a potential convert to [pet interest], RUN.
3) Unrequited love is not worth it. While you can get a momentary ego boost from the whole martyr thing, eventually it becomes very frustrating and emotionally draining.
4) Attractive, intelligent people who radiate love and light can also be boring as shit. If it comes to a choice between an interesting, somewhat twisted person with a dark side, and an illuminated rock, I'll take the interesting weirdo.
5) If you kiss someone in the middle of a sentence and they keep talking, chances are the relationship is doomed.
I've also learned the value of difference of opinion. You can disagree with someone on every single philosophical issue under the sun, and still sincerely like them. I liked him, and I liked nearly all the people I met at the church. It was a good experience for me...before then, I had a very negative perception of Christians, and would dismiss them outright. In youth group, I was constantly bombarded with questions about my theology (I was, and am an agnostic)...this made me question my own beliefs, and if anything made me lean more towards the atheist side. So it actually strengthened my skepticism. :) I also enjoyed the novelty of being the only non-Christian in the group, and whenever they did lectures on alternative beliefs (which did happen occasionally), they would ask me for my viewpoints. I was the friendly local neighborhood agnostic, and hopefully also widened their perceptions as well, so they knew that not all agnostics were shallow ignorant heathens who didn't care about spirituality (apparently that was the most common misconception).
So it wasn't entirely a bad thing. However, it was extremely emotionally draining...while I was with him, I was in a constant state of doubt and confusion, especially as regarded my own questionable morals (bear in mind the worst thing I have ever done, is sneak a half-glass of wine up to my room when I was 15...I promptly had a major headache, and have never touched alcohol since), and I felt horribly guilty about tainting this pure creature of the light with my mere presence. At the same time, I would deliberately do things to taint him (such as discussing my interest in lesbian fiction, or using extremely mild swear words; to this day I still don't really consider "Jesus Christ" to be swearing, don't ask me why)! It must have highly entertained people to see us together...hyperactive, profane little me with a serene, rather uncommunicative right-wing Christian.