music, books, love and kindness

Is there any point in writing something online no one reads? Probably not. But if you know no one's reading and you still want the somewhat safe illusion someone is, what's the harm in pouring your heart out? If you have an audience of zero, is there anything to be feared or lost when writing something deeply personal that you'd rather no one else know?

There are days when it takes all my self control not to tell this certain person how much I like her. It's not that it would matter, but that it's an actual compulsion inside me I have to sometimes fight, like the urge to break out into a musical number when you know that would just be strange and out of place. Part of me thinks she would hate knowing I like her, the other part knows she wouldn't care either way. 

The first day we met I had such hopes we'd at least get to be co-workers that got along well, if not friends. Now, I know differently. Now, I behave differently. 

With most people I am fine, if a bit too goofy and more chatty than I probably should be. With her, I am completely silent to the point of being rude. I am in such awe of her that it's like a stun gun hits me.

She is the epitome of poise and togetherness, so much so that if it weren't for this kindness that hides behind her eyes, you'd mistake her for aloof, maybe even cold. She's so the opposite of me and I wish I could carry on a conversation with her without turning red or stumbling over my words. 

I thought by now I'd be relaxed around her, but I'm not. She's a super-talented woman, but there's also something else I can't put my finger that makes her hard to dismiss.

Even when I was young, way before I suspected I might be gay, I had trouble talking with people I found fascinating. The more I liked someone (whether platonically or romantically) the more I retreated. At first I found it frustrating, but once I learned I had no poker face at all I realized it was a blessing in disguise.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this. Maybe I just want it written somewhere (have it ripped out of my heart and mind, for even a second) so that I keep it hidden in plain sight and don't risk telling her one day.