Date: April 9, 2025
by Lena Fitzgerald
I think about it all the time. About how I’ll never tell you how I feel, because even if I did, it wouldn’t change anything. You wouldn’t feel the same way. And that’s a reality I have to live with.
It’s funny, in a way. How much I care for you, how much I want to be more than just your friend. Sometimes, I catch myself daydreaming about holding you, just being close to you without all the awkwardness, just being there. I want to tell you, but the words get stuck every time. And I know that even if I managed to say it, it wouldn’t make any difference because… you’re straight.
I take your friendship with everything I have in me, and I cherish it. But it’s always just beneath the surface—this ache. I want to be more, and I know I can’t, and that hurts more than I ever want to admit.
I don’t even know what I am. I think I like you, more than just a friend. But I don’t really understand it all. Maybe I don’t even need to. Maybe it’s just a phase. Or maybe it’s just love, but one-sided, like so many other stories I’ve heard about.
Some days, I wish I could be someone else, someone you could fall in love with. But then I remember—I’m not supposed to even be feeling like this. You’ve never given me any reason to think I have a chance. I’m stuck in a place where I know exactly how I feel, but I can’t let it out.
I just wanted to say it out loud, even if it’s here. Even if you’ll never know.
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