Beautiful Boy

twelve

Confessing.

It sounds easy, but it really isn't.

Imagine this.

Your heart is beating really quick around someone who makes you shy the moment your eyes meet.

When they enter the room, you're extremely aware of their presence, and try to get their attention.

Basically, their opinion matters to you.

In more ways than one.

Suddenly, appearance becomes important and you become careful of your words.

Everything you say is either thought too much, or not thought at all.

Sounds scary, doesn't it?

It's like I don't already psychoanalyze myself, and on top of that, when I get a crush, the level of my psychoanalyzing self goes from 30 to 100.

Fuck. Why did I say that?

Was he uncomfortable?

Did I make it weird? I'm sorry for making it weird.

So imagine confessing to this so called person, with the full theatrics. Include the trembling hands, biting lips, shaky voice, yada yada.

And then, imagine them saying no.

No.

Of course, they're allowed to say no. It's something that they're entitled to.

But, how would I end up feeling?

Like shit, right?

Of course, that's always a possibility.

But what if they said yes?

That is also a possibility.

Yes.

I'd love to be with you.

Yes.

I wanted to be with you too.

I thought about you.

And just because that possibility existed-

You gain some courage to put the weight of your feelings for the person in words, and breathe it out.

I like you.

Would I be able to do it?

I barely know him, and yet, I like him. I like him a lot.

When homework guy told me that he was going to confess, my first question was how?

But I think I kind of get it.

The feeling of wanting your feelings to be heard at least once seems like a nice concept.

I smiled to myself.

I wonder how he'd react if I ever told him how I really felt.