They say love is a funny feeling, binding one to another in ways unimaginable, sprouting feelings sometimes uncontainable. That everyone at some point in time will be one with this feeling.
Mine was with a girl I met in college, friends at first, then the feelings grew, feelings I always tried to suppress. Without the courage to act on them, suppressing them felt ideal.
I remember our first kiss, my brief moment of bliss. Her lips stalled my beating heart as it touched my cheek. A gesture of gratitude from her, for something I had done. But till this day meant more than that to me.
She always came around to say hello, always wanted to visit. I read the signs, understood what they meant, but never acted on them.
I was always without courage to approach her. Never found the boldness to tell her how I felt.
What if she felt different for me.
What if she rejects me. A conflict that was always within me.
For someone who was a public speaker, addressed multitudes, yet without the boldness to speak to one that mattered more. An irony of life.
It hurts to love someone, yet never have the courage to tell that person how you feel.
I can no longer pretend, can no longer hide what I feel, but what can I do. How can I be free of this torment, this regret.
I saw them together at the coffee shop yesterday. Watched as she laughed and smiled at all he said, so much happiness.
I wonder if she would have been happy at my side. A thought, that remains only a thought.
Cursed, to have to witness another assume a position that could have been mine.
She was always there, standing at my door, but I never reached out for her. I guess she got weary of waiting, so she moved on.
My courage has found me late, now she is far from reach.
So I tell you as a friend, don’t make the same fault as mine. Reach out and grasp whatever or whoever inflames you. You will never know the outcome if you never find the courage to try.