This is a confession that does not matter now but should have been said a long time ago. A confession so long overdue but still needs to be heard. A confession of no longer importance but changed my discernment in an essential way. And even if all of these had become no more, I still want to come clean.
So I confess to you my friend. Bless me, for I have sinned. And that sin is called holding back.
I confess that if things had gone differently, we would be in the place where we wanted to be. I confess that I believe if one of us just said what one thought of the other, we might have been on the same page, or on the moving forward-stage.
I confess that every time I think about an episode of my life that involves you, everything about it revolves around this thing called regret. I confess that there are so many things I know I should have done to change the course of what happened, so many things I know I should have said that might alter the way we perceive each other, forever.
I confess that I had longed so much to know what went on inside that head of yours when we were on the peak of togetherness. The random meet-ups, the movie friendly dates, the platonic lunch and dinner moments, as well as the silly online chatting and long hours of phone conversations. And I confess that every day, I used to wish I did.
I confess that you were one of my closest, if not best friends. But also, I confess that from the very first day, you were never really a friend to me. I confess that even before you knew my favorite color, or my whole name, you were already more than a buddy to me.
I confess that it used to ache when you told me stories about the person you used to like. I confess that my remarks of support and words of wisdom were all fake. I confess that I wished I was that girl you liked.
Over the years of closeness, I confess that I honestly believe we were once on the same page. I confess that people had been accusing me of not thinking clearly, of assuming dangerously. But I confess that I knew better. I confess that I knew you well enough to arrive at the conclusion that something was once mutual between us.
I confess that I tried to wait, that I wanted to wait. I confess that I thought a move will be initiated. I confess that I was hurt when you never did a thing. I confess that there are so many moments that my tongue nearly slipped, with unsaid words almost gliding out. I confess that I had penned my feelings about you, and that I wished you had seen all of those.
I confess that I thought keeping this will keep you in my life. I eventually learned nothing will. I confess that I hoped I just didn’t hide this from you. Because I realized no matter what I did or did not do and say, I still wasn’t able to keep you.
Yet, I confess that maybe I mistook it for love. I confess that I realized this might not be that great of a feeling, that what I felt for you is nothing compared to what I felt with other people that I’d been with, and the one I am with now. And that I still find it difficult to make sure if this was really love.
But then, I confess that I sometimes wonder if this could have turned into a sure love had I only said something. If we only took a step further. And I confess that that conjecture had kept me awake for many nights before. I confess that even if this was not really love at all, this was one hell of an emotion that almost haunted me for a long time. I confess that I went through stages of grief because of you. I confess that I was in denial, anger and sadness because every investment I had in this thing was slowly going down the drain. I confess that I bargained for opportunities in exchange for a time with you. And yes, I confess that it took so long for me to finally accept that nothing will ever happen.
And I confess that until now, I still think about what would really turn out if you knew what I felt. Even though I know you recognized it well enough.
I confess that I wished you were brave enough to accept or reject me if you really had an idea about it. I confess that I want to believe there will come a time when we could just casually talk and laugh about it.
I confess that the biggest frustration I have whenever I think of this is that I failed before I even started. I confess that the factor that made me fool myself into thinking I was into this for a long time was that I was not given a chance. I confess that maybe, acceptance would come to me earlier if you only gave me that chance to prove if this was a real emotion or not.
Instruct me to utter a hundred Hail Marys and Glory Bes for this last confession: although I am somehow thankful that you didn’t give way for a big heartbreak to occur, I confess to you my friend about my hope that maybe after reading this; you will realize that you broke a little something in me still.