i can’t even look at him. he’s lying there, and everything about him — his chest rising and falling, the way his hair falls across his forehead, the softness in his eyes — makes my heart ache in a way that feels too big for me to hold. we just… we just did this. we just let ourselves be close in a way i thought i’d been ready for, and now, being awake, being here, it’s like the weight of everything crashes down on me. his eyes find mine, steady, sure, full of something i’ve wanted my whole life. because i’ve changed everything about myself, and the one thing that never changes is that i love you, he says. and my chest tightens so suddenly i can barely breathe. love. he says it like it’s simple, like it’s always been this way. and i… i want it to be simple for me too. god, i want to tell him i love him, i want to tell him i’ve always loved him. but the truth is… i can’t.
my fingers twist in the sheets, my stomach twisting with fear and longing and shame all at once. ❝ conrad… ❞ my voice cracks, small, fragile. ❝ i wish i could be as sure of my feelings for you as you are of yours. ❞ my eyes sting and i can’t hold his gaze, because if i do, i’ll break. ❝ i… i want to feel what you feel. i want to know i can be that person for you. but i can’t. not now. ❞ i can feel my heart hammering in my chest, and every part of me wants to curl into @electr1c, to tell him everything will be okay, to make it easier than it is. but it’s not okay. it’s not simple. and i can’t lie to him — not after everything. ❝ i’m sorry, ❞ i whisper, almost to myself, almost like saying it louder would make it real. ❝ i’m so sorry, conrad. i wish i could be the person you need me to be. the person who can love you the way you love me. but i can’t. ❞
the room feels too small, like the air is thick and heavy with all the things i can’t say. i love him. i do. more than anyone, more than anything. but it’s not enough. not for him, not yet. and the heartbreak of knowing i’ve given him my body, my closeness, and yet my heart can’t fully meet his — it’s unbearable. i feel tears prick my eyes, my hands shaking, my chest aching in a way that makes me feel like i could shatter at any moment. and even now, lying here, the memory of our skin touching, the warmth of him next to me, it’s almost cruel. because i want it so badly, i want him so badly, and yet i can’t. i can’t give him the certainty he deserves. and telling him this — that i can’t — is the hardest thing i’ve ever done.
