a realization,

We couldn't say I love you, not in those words, at least. We found little ways of saying it to eachother, ways like "you make me happy," or, "I like how you're wearing your hair today." Little things that would seem so innocent on the surface, so platonic in the way we pretended to love each other for so long. There were times, admittedly, when it felt more heavy, teetering on the surface of something more, a breath away from the words we kept hidden, from eachother, from ourselves. I remember when I finally admitted it to myself that I loved him, and it first felt like a rush of fresh air. Fresh air that I then realized was coming from the ocean, at the edge of a cliff I was standing on, unsure to jump, unsure if there would be welcoming waves beneath me, or angry, sharp rocks.