I confessed.
10 days ago, I confessed to you that I have feelings for you that I don’t know what to do with and that I can’t ignore.
I confessed that I can’t be casual like you can even though I’ve tried. I can’t just casually joke with you when I feel this way.
I confessed that I am comfortable (with me) with you. I crave you. How I think about you like the clock tells time.
I confessed that I know you want no drama in your life, but that I just want to cry all the time because I want to be with you and I’m not.
I confessed that I can no longer analyze and microanalyze the things you say or how you act to just wonder how you feel.
I needed you to know. Or I needed to know that you already knew, which apparently you didn’t (at all). And I needed to say what I said. Out loud. To you.
I took the biggest risk. I gave up my power.
I spilled all of this — my vulnerability — out into the space between us. I laid my heart in your hands to keep, throw, break. I shared my deepest secrets that nobody knew… with you. I said words out loud, making them real, known, non-secret and non-refundable.
I said that your friendship wasn’t enough. The friendship I treasure, honor and delight in.
And I told you that now you have the power. Over me. You have the power of knowing what you know, and you can use that power to hurt me. And you said you would never abuse your power. And I trust you. I do.
And then I realized that giving up power is much worse than sharing it. You had given me no power over you. There was no balance of power between us now. You held the power, and I held my lack of it.
Knowledge is power. And in the end, power settles everything.
I endured.
And then I endured the i m p o s s i b l e silences after speaking my truths.
I endured the embarrassment of not having those feelings reciprocated after I asked the question (to end the silence). The question that I had wanted to ask for months but didn’t because I knew that my heart might not be able to handle the answer. The question that I didn’t have to ask (because your silence was really answer enough)… but I had to ask (to make you step into the vulnerability hot box for a moment. I had perspired enough.).
And I endured the vexing, humiliating, nearly condescending responses you doled me.
I was brave.
And after I bared all of that to you for 89 minutes and 9 seconds, ten days ago, I told E.
B: “I feel that I was brave to tell him how I feel. I was brave.”
E: “SO BRAVE.”

I was brave. I am brave. Braver than you.
-B