I ran. I pushed it down and away under the pretense that I was protecting your job. But really I was freaking out. Yes partially because I was worried about work and what it would mean for you if they kept pushing, but mostly I was afraid of YOU, the way I told your that you’re afraid of me. And I still hold that. I do scare you. But something was different this time. You said it was the way I kissed you, but I think it was the way we kissed each other. The way we openly discussed all the topics we did. And the way I finally told you that I see you for exactly who you are and that you are safe with me. That you are enough for me just like this. I don’t want to change you. That I love you exactly as you are.

You asked me how I felt knowing that everyone in that room knew I belonged to you, that I was yours. I said I did not know. I lied. I knew. I was afraid. I was afraid and I was proud. I was happy, and giddy, and foolish, and lustful, and excited, and terrified, and anxious, and yours. I was everything at once because I did not know what that even meant.

Then given the first opportunity to work through that, I panicked. You told me to stop and that no we didn’t have to stop and I wouldn’t listen. How many times were you supposed to tell me that it was ok, that nothing had to change, and I keep pushing before you finally went back to what was your “norm”. I panicked because I told you at that party that I probably COULD fall in love with you but I hold it back. But that was a lie. I’m pretty sure, and my writing just proves it, I’d fallen in love with you a while ago. I’m still not even comfortable saying it because in my mind it makes me weak like them. It takes away my intrigue, my allure, whatever it is that keeps you coming back to me. You told me, that girly side, that’s my “one flaw”. But it is there. Not for many, or anyone really, but for you? Yeah. It’s there. I’m really good at controlling it though. And when I feel myself losing that control, I run.

This might change nothing. Maybe I’ve read the situation wrong entirely. And that’s ok too. Because part of loving someone, and I mean really loving someone, for who they are is understanding that their journey is their own. I meant it when I said I don’t want to change you and I do truly understand you. Because of that I can openly tell you these things, not to try and make you do anything different but to at the very least give you clarity on where I stand. Why I shut it off the way I did. You deserve to know that it wasn’t anything you did, it wasn’t because I wouldn’t risk everything for you, and it wasn’t just because my job (or your job) is so important. It was simply because I was, and am, afraid. A person deserves to know the impact they have. What they’ve stirred in another person.

I’ve always been honest with you. I haven’t often been vulnerable. And they’re two different things. Very different. This? This is vulnerable. To tell you I love you and I am afraid of that and to know that you may not feel the same but deserve to know anyway. I am not comfortable here. But here is where I am. And it’s about time I learn to live with it.