Couldn't Keep It





Rain. Just like the inside of my head. You, you, and you. It's always been you lately. My breath caught in my throat the moment your words danced into the air. They echo in the chambers of my heart. This strange flutter in my chest I can't quite name. And your cheeks were the color of a ripe tomato. "But I couldn't keep it bottled up anymore," you said.

 

Me neither. Me neither. 

 

Except my "it" isn't the same as yours. 

 

I keep replaying the scene in my head. The way your eyes looked at me—so earnest. It was like... like I was seeing you for the first time. Not as the boy who knows every embarrassing detail of my life, but as a boy who really sees me.

 

And that scares me. 

 

Because what if I don't feel the same way? What if this changes everything? What if I mess things up? 


But now things are different.


I don't know what to say. I don't know what to feel. I've never even considered you in that way. You've always been family.

 

I've spent the last few days avoiding you like the plague. Every time I see you in the hallway, my stomach does a somersault. The easy banter is gone, replaced by awkward silences and forced smiles. I'm afraid to look at you directly. I'm afraid of what I might see in your eyes. For God's sake, I never saw it coming. You were always the one I could tell absolutely anything to. We'd spend hours debating the merits of different fantasy worlds, teasing each other mercilessly, and sharing our deepest thoughts in the quietude of the night.

 
My thoughts scattered like stardust at the sight of you. All the carefully constructed words I meant to say vanished, and my heart was thumping like crazy. I know I should talk to you. Tell you how I feel, or at least be honest about this weird, confusing mess I'm in. But what if I say the wrong thing? What if I hurt you?

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