It doesn't.

I've been thinking a bit about unrequited love lately.
Growing up, I looked at figures like Eponine, Quasimodo, and Cyrano de Bergerac and thought how romantic, how beautiful their loves were. How amazing it was they devoted themselves and sacrificed in their love for those who did not love in return. And then it happened to me.
All throughout college I was in love with a man who I believed I would marry.
We supported each other through trials, and talked often. He was my friend but I felt a bond much closer to him. And for the first time in my life I fell in love with someone. The kind of love where you cannot sleep because you are so happy thinking about him.
I was so sure that one day he would look at me and see me, really see me. I began praying for him nightly. I wanted so badly to stand with him as he faced his difficulties.
He supported me as well. When something was wrong, he could tell, and he gently sat with me and talked with me so that I would feel better, or at least comforted.
And then I realized we wanted different things in our lives. I decided we would not be together. But I still loved him. No matter how hard I tried not to, I loved him. And I hated him for that.
I hadn't seen him in quite some time my last year in college and invited him to my graduation party. He said he would try but he could not come.
Then we did not speak for ages.
He married a woman who is perfect for him, who wants the same things, and who is just the sweetest woman ever.
They have a beautiful daughter together.

I saw him in January for the first time in over a year at a wedding of mutual friends. And all those old feelings were still there. And I couldn't do anything about it. And of course he didn't know, so he talked to me like the old friend I was and asked me about school. I asked about his family. And then he followed me to the reception. As soon as my friends got there, I stuck with them, though we both could see each other clearly from across the room. I told one of my friends and she checked on me the whole night, even stood next to me when he said goodbye.

And it just hurt. And I was angry. I had no need of these feelings for him; in fact they only caused me pain. Throughout the rest of the month and into February I could not stop thinking about him and then being angry at myself for thinking of him.

I am alright now. I don't think I should see him again.

And now I see that unrequited love is not beautiful. It isn't romantic. It's sad. And painful. And it doesn't stop.