The infamous "Theological Explanation." The "story" parts "I, II, and III" all compiled here.

Part I- June 2006
He spent late nights up in his room, writing poems that no one would ever read. He knew for a fact that no one would ever read them, it was just one of the few ways he could express the joy of his love- by working the hand on paper. Every night, after a hard day of thinking, he would fall asleep of what he could do to have her love. The same dream would appear in his mind when he would sleep. In the middle of this grand ballroom with drapes of gold, chandeliers of diamond, and tiles of 90 different colours, would be this majestic, glossy black, piano. There would be him, seated at the throne of music, and not a person would be around, as he gently placed his fingers upon the keys. He would play the same song each night, and the sound was so great that the entire room was filled with its glory, but not a single ear would touch the music. This amazing song he played, he knew he would never play in real life, but nonetheless he played on and on, and suddenly, the love of his life would enter from the far corner, in a modest, silky white dress. And she would walk across the room, with such elegance and humbleness, that it made his mind boggle. When she would reach the soft edge of the piano. She would just simply watch his fingers slide up and down the scales. Then their eyes would slowly rise into each others’ as the dim candle light would create a romantic shine when it flickered in their visual connection. They would gaze at each with such pureness until he woke up at dawn.

Every morning he would write a letter to her, address the envelope, and add the stamp… but would never send it. It just sat there up on his desk in his room, until too many letters took up too much room, and had to relocate them to his stash of forgotten poems. After he was done with the never-to-be-sent letter, he would sit at his piano, and try to play the song in his dreams. He never could play it as it was in his dream, but he played a simpler melody. Though the simpler melody was beyond his normal skilled with written sheet and notation, he could play it. He did not know how, and when he tried to write it down, it got to complicated for him, so the song remained only in his head for quite some time.

After 2 some years, his ability to enhance the music with his new higher skill of piano, he learned more and more of the song, and he played it more and more- even in public. Soon, it became the only song he could memorize, and he found himself humming his favourite parts of the melody when he was happy or sad. After a while, it became one of the few songs he ever played, and in time became the only song he did play.

He became to enwrapped in this whole thing that he started making himself sick, and he thought he was over obsessed (which was true, very true) and he needed sometime to get away and just stop. This lasted for a week until he fell right back in, but however, things were not the same. His dream was different. She would wear a red dress on night, and a black one the other. And his song- it would be in a different scale, there were three different ways he played. He would go from the original F Major to C Major, then eventually D Major. When he would wake in the morning he would transpose the music in his mind, and played it. He preferred D Major. He was slightly disturbed by the imbalance of his dream, and how things were different. Then he noticed that he started writing his poems different. Also, he started making up his own parts to the song that were not originally in the dream. Later on, parts of his song, which he dreamed, appeared in a song by a minor music artist. This caused much frustration, because the only people who knew of this minor artist were the many of the people he knew.

One day, he woke a little crazed and wasn’t in his right mind, and he addressed a letter that contained one of the poems we wrote the night before, and mailed it. He never did get a direct response (which caused even more frustration,) but he did get knowledge of the whereabouts of the letter- unfortunately all of her thoughts are still kept from him till this day. However, he understood her exact situation, because he was in a similar state. We have subject A and subject B… A and B never really talk (maybe a wave in the hall, or small talk online), but A has an affinity for B. B knows of this, but he continues to go on his way. A sends some signals or things to B, B is aware, but still continues to sorta not pay attention to it (though he converses about it with his friends). B’s reason for this is because B does not like A, and doesn’t want to hurt A’s feelings. Well, he was A, and she was B. This really lowered his spirits when he thought of this, and caused more frustration.

He did not know why he had this huge thing for her, and he still does not know to this day, but he does. He knew that she really doesn’t care, he knew that she’s just being nice when she talks to him, he knew that he has no chance. He tried to tell himself that, and that he should just get over her, but yet he told himself that it’s true, she wants to talk to him, and that he should continue. He went to his friends, and some told him that he shouldn’t give up, and some told him that he’s wasting his time, which again adds to the giant pile of frustration in his mind. With such constipation of the brain, this greatly affected how he did things, what he said, and how he looked at things. He did not know what do to, so he told people that he quite, and he hoped that he would “lock” himself into the situation. It worked, for about a month, before his flame was sparked again. He was a little frightened, and he told one of his friends who quickly shut him down with even the idea of the fact. He spent the rest of that day weeping that his affinity is no longer accept by society, though he still perused to love her.

Time and time again, he knows he could do some many huge things that would be eye dazzling to other ladies, but he wanted to so careful, maybe too careful, with such a delicate situation. He never had experienced such a thing, that wastes so much of your time if the outcome is not in your favour, and he just backed off his wild ideas of marveling things for her, because what happened that one morning when he stuck the envelope in the mailbox. He was torn into two. He wanted to stop, but wanted to continue. He felt like he could just rip out his hair and gouge out his eyes at any given moment because of what was going through his mind.

There is no ending to this story, because the story has not ended yet...

Part II- July 2006
Theological Explanation
Some may have heard in various form already the second part to my Theological Explanation. He was in a bad time. A time where he tried to fill the hole in his heart with something else than God. And she was one of them. That was the reason for his constant over obsession. The more and more he filled the hole up with things not of God the more and more the hole grew which resulted in a vicious cycle. He had many pity parties left and right... in the car, at school, work, especially when falling asleep- Instead of having retarted romantic fantasies that would never happen and never will he would feel sorry for himself because of all this crap he buried on top of himself. There was the constant akwardness, the constant pity, and the constant guilt. He couldn't take it any longer and in one night he talked to a dear role model of his and just layed it on him (but not the exact story, he had to apply it to something else because of certain reasons) and God gave his dear role model the perfect words to give him. That night he prayed the longest and most serious prayer he prayed in a long time. As he was watching the light pass him ahead in the trail, a hand grabbed him and yanked him up right with the light. This greatly affected his life. He was living a joyful, more full life than anything in his wildest dreams. He was seeing changes that he could of never dreamed of changing because he let God in control of those areas. Now there is still some akwardness with her presence, but slowly but surely it is draining. He just really dosen't care really about girls that much (in that manner) he would so much rather just be himself and have girls just be friends

Part III- November 2006
Times passed, emotions drained, and things seemed brighter. The one-way relationship took its last up before the ultimatum, which was eventually going to happen. Blind of the near future, he perused her tail. Summer came around the corner, so awkwardness crept out of the crypt and made itself known in many a situation during encounters with her. He was nervous, she was creeped out. He thought, with full belief, he would always love her, but the definitive paradoxical complexity. He had enough of his catharsis, and he tried to hide his feelings down under, but his emotions were so buoyant the canal of his mind, so he continued to constantly express the emotion. He distracted himself many times from the things around him, but soon the well dried up, and there was nothing left to do but think and ponder. He knew his passion was obsessive and a bit compulsive, but still, he lost self-control. Before you knew it she was all he ever talked about, thought about, and every breath- every single motion, was for her- so he thought. He constantly thought of the 4-year anniversary when he began his futile quest. His situation was not anything many people ever heard, but he was in search of a verbatim, so that he would be able to share in mutual understanding. He was so blind to it, the most immature circumstance he put himself, and there was no real basis for his pathetic struggle. I cannot express the vanity he wanted from others of his completely encumbering innermost thoughts and feelings. His love was worthless, and his emotions were hollow. However, these were the only things he held to him, in fact, they were most dear and held highest above all else. School hit, and now there was material to inadvertently inject in his mind to push out what was there for nearly 4 years. He almost fully forgot of what was, until he was reminded a month after what seemed like a 4-year centennial. However, his heart didn..t skip a beat when he saw her, instead there was a hint of slight disappointment- his past worst fear was now what he has become. He was in shock, he wanted to tell people, and his uncontrolled mental tyrannical rule had ended. Nothing against her, all was against him. He didn..t know what say, didn..t know what to feel, and he didn..t know at all what was going on- He was happy but depressed. For she was one of the only things, he looked forward to in times of his incapacity. Nevertheless, his regression had ceased. Then one day, another lady passed him by.. and yet begins another story.