I've never confessed to anyone that I had feelings for them. Never. No matter if it had been for three years, or one, or even just a couple of months. I've never, ever confessed.
A part of it is because every time I think of confessing, I make up my mind about how they feel about me even before I try. And I think I've been pretty accurate all these years. No one ever falls for the nice, friendly, loud, warm, caring, enthusiastic, exuberant, gentle, fat, average looking guy who makes himself a little too available for everyone around him. Emotionally and in presence.
So many times, with so many different people, I've longed to write a letter to spell my feelings out to the person word by word. I've longed to pull you to a corner in between class and slowly ease a confession on. To post it on my blog that months of secret crushing was all on you. Looking you in the eye and frankly admit my feelings for you.
Heck, I've wanted to scream it out loud for the world to hear, and at times wanted to just type it out via MSN just because I'd wanted the privacy.
But I've kept silent every step of the way. And I'm tired of it. It's gotten me nowhere.
"Take a leap of faith"
"Looks don't really matter"
"You won't know until you try"
"It might all be worth it"
"Maybe, just maybe"
"Don't sell yourself short"I love you. But it's harder than just letting the words slip from my mouth. It's the unlocking of years of insecurity, and the stepping away from years of self-doubt, and really, releasing the hands, and just letting go. This isn't emo, and this isn't self-pity. It's recognition. And it's a helpless and an inability to do anything despite that self-recognition that bothers me. That tires me. How I so badly want to tell you that I like you, and that I may even love you. But for now I can only stand here with all this knowledge of myself in my hands, but without any means whatsoever to make a change.
I wonder if it would all be different if I'd been born.. different?.. better?
! dug deep in the sand
