The Words I Cannot Say

I get this feeling when I’m around you. It’s a mixture between wanting to curl up in your arms, and wanting to hide from you all mixed up into one.

When you look into my eyes I wonder if you can see into my heart. Do you know the thoughts I feel for you? The words I want to say to you? Can you tell that they are right on the tip of my tongue? Do you see the fear that takes over me when you’ve held your gaze for 1 millisecond too long?

I try to recover. Think of something witty to say. But all my brain can muster up is “Hi.” Can you tell that I really have so much more I want to share with you? You seem to know it. You always wait just a few seconds longer as if you know there is more. Testing me. Waiting to see if any other words come out.

We spend the entire night talking with now words. One moment you look up and I realize you’ve caught me in a daydream induced stare fixed directly on you. The next I see you from across the room, looking at me as if to say “tell me what’s on your heart.”

Will it always be this way? Will I ever muster up the courage to tell you that I believe in love at first site, and that at first site I knew I could love you.

Would it be too much? Would you run away?

Perhaps one day I will be able to say the words I cannot say to you today.