Prose that may be too bland or too blue;
Random stories that may or may not be true;
All penned by Alice in her times of loneliness;
They shall aid the mind and heart of the restless.
Oops! Ang larawang ito ay hindi sumusunod sa aming mga alituntunin sa nilalaman. Upang magpatuloy sa pag-publish, subukan itong alisin o mag-upload ng bago.
Someone once asked me, “What would you do if you weren’t afraid?”
I would tell you I love you.
I would go straight to you, grab your hand, and tell you, “Hey, come with me.” I would walk outside with you. I would stand in the hallway. I would look you in the eye. I would say, “I love you.”
At that moment, I would be honest, vulnerable, and alive. I would be myself. I would see, hear, and think of nothing else but you and me. I would wait for your response, not dreading rejection nor expecting you to say you feel the same about me—just simply waiting. If you don’t say a word or do anything, and if you just stare at me, right there and then, I would be happy. I wouldn’t ask for anything else.
But, you see, I can’t do that.
I can’t tell you I love you because I’m afraid. I’m afraid that you won’t let me hold your hand. I’m afraid of rejection. I’m afraid that you will just stare and stare and stare after I’ve spoken the words. I’m afraid that you won’t say a thing. I’m afraid that you don’t feel the same way. I’m afraid of what will happen next.
