How to tell you.

How to tell you.

I don’t now. I can imagine telling you in so many different ways.

I being a beautiful princess, and you, my knight in shining armour, rescuing me from my tower, in which I’d languished for years. You really are my knight in shining armour. Well, sometimes (admittedly) you are my dork in tin foil. You saved me. Literally. I was down, depressed. I’d dug myself a hole, jumped into and carried on digging. I couldn’t get out of it. I had no rope, no ladder, to climb out of it. No one, not even the person I counted to be my best friend, was able to, was prepared or, indeed, would climb down and help me. Then you came along. You threw me a silk thread. Gradually, that silk thread spun itself into a hemp rope. The hemp rope wound itself in a steel cable. The steel cable turned into a wooden ladder. The wooden ladder transformed into marble staircase. You dragged me out of that pit of despair, that hole of misery, that trench of self-loathing. I clung to you. You made, and still do, me happy.

I feel so awkward, when we talk. You don’t know how much you meant to me. You couldn’t know. I’m the only one who knows how much. I’ve told one person, one person, and I know he wouldn’t tell, because trust him. He’s one of my best friends. You are one of my best friends. I know I trust you enough to tell you, but I don’t know you well enough to guess what you reaction would be. It’s always on the tip of my tongue, but I’ll never be strong enough to say it to you.

I’m scared, I guess. Scared of rejection, scared of commitment. I couldn’t live without you, yet I’m too scared to tell you the truth. And I hate myself for it. One day, I will tell everyone. Show them who I really am. But that day isn’t today, and tomorrow isn’t looking good either.

I always say it, but I have to add that joke tone, or “as a friend” at the end. Or I replace the “l” with a “w”. I could never say it too you, because I’m scared. And that we’re never alone together. And if I can’t say when we’re alone, how can I say it when we are in a room full of your “friends”, some of whom I think are assholes or jerks or whatever I feel like calling them at the time.

I guess the best way is to tell you straight out. Like the person who knows told me too. So here goes:

I love you.