I'm sorry, but I need somewhere to say something. And since this is my blog, it'll be here.
I've talked myself out of it. Every time, I think, I can do this.
Every time, I think, but you'll flip out. It'll ruin what we have. I can't do this, why did I ever think I could?
No matter who I talk to, I talk myself out of it. I'm a pro when it comes to arguing, and I try to argue my way out of talking to you.
But I need to. Everyone I ask says it might end best if I talk to you. If you don't know what I mean, then you can leave me alone.
A few people say I should anyway. Ask you to give me space, I mean. Sometimes I think it might be for the best.
Someone I trust and admire told me, "...my
suggestion would be to take time away from [them]. Don’t
be mean to them, but spend time meeting new people." Maybe that's what I should do, I'll think. Maybe I'd get over you, move on and find someone else.
But then I'll remember that sometimes I go weeks or months without seeing you, and suddenly, you're all I can think about. How much I miss you, how incredibly you are, how much I care about you. I wonder what you're doing.
I plan out how I'll tell you everything next time I see you.
It never happens.
So I guess it'll stay like this for now. I'm sorry it has to be this way, because you don't know how much I would love for you to know, but I can't tell you. Not yet.
Maybe one of these days.