The Friday

There isn't a lot to say about this, but I believe it warrants its own post.

The Friday of the next week. We were talking on the phone. You told me how you felt for me. I knew that. I hoped you knew how I felt about you. The feelings were mutual, we both knew that. Even though neither of us had said it, not really. We kept going in circles - you saying something about how you felt for me, me saying how that must say something to you, and you replying with something along the lines of "I know that, but I'm not leaving him."


In the end, I asked you plain and simple "Do you want me to just butt out?" You seemed to have no idea at first, but eventually came to the decision that it would be best. A clean cut. A quick blow. I was left winded to say the least. I know you could tell. Even thinking about it now brings back those primal emotions - jealousy, anger and the feeling of being lost. Or of loosing.

You told me to shout at you, to tell you all sorts of nasty things. Anything to make me feel better. I don't see where you got the notion  that belittling you would make me feel any better about the whole thing. I did take your offer of doing anything that would make me feel better. "I love you". I needed to say it. I didn't have the courage. I texted you it. On top of that, I used a codeword for it. You sent me back the same thing. I was left, if I say the least, a little confused.

I love you


Words I was scared to say to you then, and still am now.