What Everyone Wishes They Could Tell Their Almost-Love. TC

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.

via Thought Catalog.

and i will love you.

and i will love you.

Thought Catalog


I will love you as best I know how. Always when the sunlight blinds us in the morning with rays so bright we have to wear all our imperfections. Our heavy lids slowly waking, trying to escape beneath the blanket for a few more minutes. I will love you in-between the snooze buttons, the sharp shrill of the alarm reminding us of where we are.

I will love you underneath. When we hide from daylight grabbing the first quiet moments of morning. The birds aren’t chirping yet, surely we can have five more minutes to hide. Five more minutes to breathe in each other. Five to prepare us for the day.

I will love you when it’s hot out. When it’s too sticky and humid and our clothes cling to our bodies. It’s impossible to feel clean as the air compresses all around us. But I will hold your hand…

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for when you think that no one will love you.

it’s a terrifying thought.

Thought Catalog

You can never quite remember the actual moments when someone says that they love you for the first time. You wait for it so long, practice how you will respond, prevent yourself from saying it before them (you wouldn’t want to look desperate), and then it happens, and it’s like you go temporarily deaf. There is a ringing, like a TV show that has cut off to go to an emergency announcement. This is an emergency announcement. And you can’t even hear it. It’s almost like your brain doesn’t want to process these words, because then you’d have to acknowledge them, and not just in your imagination.

Besides, everyone who has ever said that to you before has left, so you might as well not even listen.

“I love you” will mean nights staying up watching someone sleep next to you, wondering why they haven’t left you already, wondering when…

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