I've finally accepted that I have feelings for you. My favorite part about coming into that bar is to see you. I love when there's a lull in the rush and you come over to me to talk. I've loved just sitting and staring at you talk about your hobbies and your favorite things. I honestly don't know the first thing about them, but I love seeing your face light up when you talk about them, and I love how excited you get when you tell me about what you have planned. You make me belly laugh, and you have such a goofy sense of humor.Â
I want to be more forward, but I'm scared. I'm scared you don't feel the same. I'm scared that the hour-long talks at the end of the night or the glances I catch from you across the room are all innocent, platonic, or otherwise lack a deeper meaning. And if you do like me back, then Iâm scared that acting on our feelings will ruin what we have. What if it doesn't work out? I'll never be able to come into that bar again. What about all of our mutual friends? What if I'm completely delusional and you get creeped out by me?Â
There's also HIM. You don't have to worry about me wanting him. He does what he can when he shows up there to get me to go home with him. I never do. He makes me feel unsafe. You make me feel safe. I know you would stand up and say something to him in a heartbeat if I gave you just one look of fear or uncertainty when he's around. Just know that I see through him and I don't want him. I do what I can in the moment to keep the peace, and I know it may seem that I'm reciprocating his feelings towards me, but I'm not. I want you. I hope one day I can stop being a chickenshit and just tell you how I feel. Or maybe you might do that, too?Â
Do you need to get something off your chest? Submit an I, Anonymous and we'll illustrate it! Send your unsigned rant, love letter, confession, or accusation to ianonymous@thestranger.com. Please remember to change the names of the innocent and the guilty.
