I was talking to a friend a little over a week ago. It’s been a while since we last spoke, and spent probably half the entire time catching up over what has been going on in our own lives since the pandemic started. We’ve both been lucky to survive thus far and doing fairly well in our respective careers; though I’ve always admired the resilience this person has in the midst of what came their way, and I tend to draw inspiration whenever similar things happen to me. And just like me, this person has been single for quite a while, so naturally, the conversation shifted to the matters of the heart.

“You’ve had experience in this area,” the friend started off. Then came the swing: “so what do you do when you fall for someone you know can’t be yours?” I was quite dumbfounded with the question. “Well, I can’t answer that thoroughly unless you provide me some context,” I answered after what seemed to me like a half-minute of silence.

Turns out, my friend has fallen for a colleague. “Is it your boss? Your peer? Or one of your directs?” I prodded. “Does it matter?” The friend replied. “I sure as hell know you’ve experienced falling for each one at separate points in time, right? Right?” came the pressing question. I suddenly got that sinking feeling in my stomach. Friend was right. Over my colorful professional life, I’ve had my fair share of attempting to mix business with pleasure. Keyword: attempt. And at that moment, all of those memories flashed back right in front of my eyes.

“Yes, I did; and I handled all of them in different ways. But, one thing was the same for all three of them: the result. You remember me telling you those, right?” I told the friend with a sigh. “Oh, yeah,” came the reply. “And how did it come about?” I asked. “Not good. Not good at all,” was the answer back.

I felt the tone of sadness that came with that answer and sensed deflation in the sigh that followed afterward. “Look, each person is different. Maybe what happened to me may not happen with you, so you’ll never know,” was my follow up, trying to give some sense of friendly assurance. “So c’mon, tell me everything.”

My friend laid out the whole story and current situation to me for about a little over five minutes with me intently listening. I found some similarities in some of the bits and pieces of the story in each of the experiences I’ve had, so I can definitely relate. Understanding that my friend knows I write on my blog; and knowing I sometimes use conversations as material, out of respect, I promised not to elaborate or tell that story here. But I definitely felt the predicament my friend was going through as the story ended up to where they are now.

“So, what do you think? Or more importantly, what should I do?” The exasperation in my friend’s voice was very telling. I could tell that the feeling for that colleague was deep, but not that deep. Yet. Recalling some of the things I did and didn’t do in the situations I experienced, it was hard to come up with a straight answer. Yet my friend appreciated the honesty and directness I was able to provide, quipping, “as you always do.” Our conversation ended with the promise of getting together over a meal and some drinks once curfew hours start later than when they do currently.

So what did I tell my friend?

We’ve always been told that “love conquers all.” Whether it be in books, songs, TV series, movies, and some real-life stories, the power of love can and will prevail against all odds, professionalism included. But the reality is, not always. No matter how sincere and pure our intentions are, or how you think you’re destined to be together, or how “it just feels right, like a hand to a glove,” not all people ride off happily ever after. In this particular setting, I don’t know what needs to be done. I’ve taken the risk of coming clean, and got my heart broken. I’ve also opted to stay in the sidelines, and got my heart broken too. So you may ask, which then, is the lesser of the two? Definitely loving the person from afar. You do what you can without going overboard. You do the little things that make the person happy, you savor every conversation you have, time seemingly stands still whenever you pass by one another, and there will be times when you have to stop yourself from messaging the person, even if it’s just small talk. You condition yourself and your mind that what you do from a distance is enough. You catch yourself lovingly staring at the person, knowing that’s all you can do because you’ll risk losing everything if you cross the barrier. And you must always ask yourself from a practical standpoint, “is it really worth the risk?” 9 times out of 10, the answer is no. Because sometimes, loving a person is putting respect of the current situation front and center before your own emotions. That’s probably the most selfless thing you can do. And if that doesn’t portray what true love is, then I don’t know what does.

There. No wonder unrequited love is my forte.

Have a good week ahead, everyone.