It’s a horrible yet still somehow hopeful feeling. I [f] have been slowly falling in love with my best friend [m] recently, who’s gay. I know that our love could never work, and I hate myself for wanting him of all people. Since I can’t be with him in a romantic relationship, I’ve been having anxious breakdowns recently because I care so much about him and would hate for something to happen to him. These breakdowns are fed by not only him being a kind of su*cidal person, combined with these fake scenarios I come up with in my head where something happens to him and I can’t seem him ever again.
It’s hopeful because I still have a false sense of hope that we could still work somehow.