I have a confession to make

 Αυτοτελής ιστορία

“-Hey, you’re shaking.

-Yeah… I am a bit anxious. Can I hold your hand?

-Sure thing…

-I have a confession to make. It’s not something that you don’t know actually. Let me start with something you yourself said last year. I am afraid only of the thought of not talking to you, even if it’s just for one day. I…I want to talk to you. That’s why I call you so many times per week. I never get bored of your voice, or your jokes. I never get bored of you. I…I know that possibly I am a bother to you. Who wouldn’t be bothered by a girl who is in love with him, but he only sees her as a friend. I know that I bother you and that it must be hard for you to talk to me normally, but I had enough of this. I want to stop pretending that I’m only your friend. I do not see you as a friend. I like you, and you’ll never possibly ever find how much I do so. I know that this confession is already melodramatic and probably boring to you, but you have to know that it is true. It comes from the depths of my thoughts and feelings and it was something I always wished to say to you.

I like the way you make me laugh. I like the way you laugh when I say something funny enough. I like the way you take care of me. I like the way your voice sounds after I’ve just waken you up. I like the way you tease me. I like the fact that you say nerdy stuff that actually sounds funny. I appreciate the fact that you’ve been here for me. You’re actually always here for me, even if you’re miles away. You take my pain away with just one word. All you have to do to make me extremely happy is to talk to me.

But I wish for more. I wish I could make your heart race, like min does, when I talk to you. I wish you could see me as something more than a friend. I wish I could hold your hand and I could be the one for you. I know it’s selfish to ask this, but I would love it if I was your girlfriend.

I mean, I am already your friend and this also makes me happy, happier than I could ever imagine. But you know, I feel as if my chest tightens and tightens more, when I realize that I could never have you, that I could never be something more than a friend to you.

The thing you could make out of this pretty much pointless speech is that I like you. I love you.”

She dropped her pencil. She couldn’t bring herself to write the line “That’s when the boy leaned and kissed her”. Her hand wouldn’t move to finish the fictional text she was writing.

She felt tears streaming down her face. What was she crying for? Because she couldn’t even kiss the boy she like din her fictional world? It was stupid… So stupid.

And yet, there she was crying over the piece of paper that had on it the hidden feelings of her heart towards one of her friends. She couldn’t bring herself up to confess to him. She was so afraid. She knew he would possibly reject her and she could stand that pain, if she was able to stay near to him, as a friend. But she would feel so sad if she saw him with another girl, holding hands, laughing, kissing.

No. She could not confess. And that made her feel so bad.

Pathetic wasn’t she? Trying to make her deepest desires come true by imaging them. And then in the end, this would destroy her heart.

She felt so fucked up.

So she cried more.

 In my field of paper flowers
And candy clouds of lullaby
I lie inside myself for hours
And watch my purple sky fly over me