Maybe in the story of my life you are “The One Who Got Away”. But that implies reciprocated affection even if only for a short time. And let’s just say I were to suspend belief there’s no way my feelings were returned. Since the common thread in all my life’s romances is unrequited love I cannot bestow the “Unrequited Love” character to you as well. It won’t be fair to the other more deserving candidates. So let’s just settle on calling you “My Best Kept Secret” since for a while now not a soul knows that I care for you as more than a friend. Our friendship is already based on an awkward tangled web, and confessing will complicate already complicated matters. But there’s a few more things that’s holding me back.
First, if I confess I fear that my confession will burden you. Never mind that I am forced to manage my expression whenever you are near. Not wanting to betray my true feelings and keeping within the confines of being a friend. Never mind that my heart is almost close to bursting with the weight of my affection. I don’t want to give you that load to bear. To give you the responsibility of my feelings. That to me will just be unfair to you.
Next, you don’t even see me in that way. I’ve seen the way you look at other girls. I’ve seen how you look at girls who are just friends and I recognize the look you give to those who are something more. You rarely give it – thank goodness or else I don’t know how I’ll manage to survive. But you’ve never looked at me that way ever and perhaps it may be never. I’m smart enough to know how high my chances are at winning your heart.
Third, I don’t want to become even more pathetic than I am now. I’ve come to the point where I’m tired of waiting for you to notice my growing feelings. Tired of revealing pieces of my heart only to be ignored. But I like you still. I still think about you every day. Still trying to restrain myself from sending you a message first. Still brought to tears at the thought of you liking someone else. Yes, I’m known as a strong, independent woman but every day I struggle not to throw my pride away and come running to you. The only thing that stops me? The image of your face turning cold and shutting me off.
I could say that I am content in loving you like this. I could say that I’m okay with loving you from a safe distance and torturing myself on what could have been. But if I am honest, I’ll never confess because I know it’s futile. I’ve given up even before I could start. I am not that confident. My confidence stops right here. With me loving you in my little way quietly and, until the day I get over you, secretly.