Confessions In the Dark

I remember that night clearly.

We were watching the stars twinkle through the window, nestled together in the corner of the couch.

A quiet had fallen over the house, like the calm before the storm.

You asked if I was okay and the only answer I could give was a muffled sob into the pillow.

I wanted so badly to lie to you.

I wanted to plaster on a brave face and let you believe I was fine.

Instead I crumbled beside you with hurried apologies and instant regret.

You scooted even closer, erasing what remained of the distance, and pulled me in.

Your arms around me the cruelest comfort. Exactly what I needed and everything I could never have.

The dreaded question flew past your lips like the final nail in my coffin.

"What's wrong?"

"I love you." I confessed.

"I love you, too." You replied, but you didn't understand.

This wasn't the love of friends.

It wasn't the kind that leaves any room in your heart for someone else.

There was nothing casual about my feelings. They were so deeply embedded into my heart I knew I'd never be able to get them out.

And that made me angry.

God, I was so angry with you. With myself. With the circumstances keeping us apart.

Angry to the point I almost wished I'd never met you at all. Better to not know a love like this exists than to have it so close but always just out of reach.

I knew I was too far gone to be pulled from the depths of my dreaming. It would never be enough to have you in increments. I wanted to dive in head-first and never look back.

I couldn't have continued on watching you give everything to someone else.

And that made me awful.

I was terrible.

The worst.

Because we had a good thing going.

A solid friendship built on trust. A comfortable routine. A mutual understanding of where we stood until I screwed it all up.

"In another life," I said though my voice was shaky, "I would've loved you so much."

I hoped you would fill in the blanks. Read between the lines and really hear what I was trying to tell you.

I didn't just love you. I was in love with you.

I whispered so quietly I couldn't be sure you heard, "It should have been us."

A selfish thought, but I felt it's truth more than the air I breathed.

You were supposed to be mine. We were supposed to be together.

The last thing I expected was for you to agree.

For your lips to press against my temple as tears of your own landed in my hair.

Because suddenly, it was real.

I knew you felt the same and I didn't have a clue what to do about it.

Where were we supposed to go from here?

Acknowledging the feelings didn't make the things keeping us apart any less true.

As much as it would've hurt, I realized I was almost hoping you didn't feel the same. Because if we both acknowledged how we felt, where did that leave us?

My confession wasn't meant for daylight.

It was supposed to happen in that dark room only lit by the dull moonlight and glistening stars. Where I could hide in the shadows of my shame.

A line from my favorite song echoed in my ears, "The night is mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day."

I just didn't know then...

The funny thing about sharing secrets in the dark, is they always have a funny way of coming to light.