Notes

Well, I guess I’m finally putting this into words.
Fuck.
She’s my close friend. Could even be considered a best friend.
That’s why I can’t tell her.
I originally intended this for be a sort of “note” to her that never was going to be sent, but I find that it’s better to simply write down all the shit I think.
Fuck.
I’d love to tell her, I’d love to confess. But I’m afraid. I’ve been friends with her for so long; what if she rejects and our friendship becomes awkward and we end up not talking anymore? That’s my primary concern, that we’ll lose the bond that we have and end up becoming estranged.
Dammit, I should tell her. There’s really no legitimate reason for me not to. I’m pretty sure that she wouldn’t reject me, but still I doubt. I doubt because we’ve grown too close. If I had just met her a week before, and had come to know her well, I have little doubt that I would.
Our closeness keeps me from her; our friendship keeps me from telling the truth.
The lines of this note are flowing like a river, which is interesting to me. I write well under normal circumstances, but it seems that a steady gush from the heart is something that I need to produce a quality piece of writing.
Anyways, back to her. She’s attractive, I trust her entirely, and her sense of humor is much akin to mine. By all measures, she’s exactly the sort of person that I should look for.
However, I’ve grown so accustomed to our current relationship that I find it near impossible to contemplate losing it. What do I gain from telling the truth? Affection, yes, and perhaps a closeness of spirit. (That’s a bit of a deep statement for a freshman in high school, but then again I am prone to make such statements from time to time.) What are the risks? Estrangement and rejection. The latter consequence I don’t fear as much as the first, as I have already stated.
Dammit, why the hell am I making this difficult?
It’s not a hard decision, really. The obvious choice is to tell her now and suck up the consequences later. However, it’s not that simple for me. I’m too analytical. I get nervous. I err on the side of caution in almost all cases. Usually, that’s seen as a positive trait, but in this case an exception is made.
I’ve wanted to tell her for two years- maybe a year and a half. That was when I first realized that I wanted to be with her. Not necessarily in a sexual way; not even in a romantic way, either. Just being with her, talking to her, would be enough. She could have a boyfriend, for all I cared, so long as we still held that bond.
So, friendship. That’s what I risk. One could make the argument that, if I truly was attracted to her, I’d tell her, regardless of the perceived risks. However, in my case, it’s different. I risk so much, and for what? A situation not unlike the one we are currently in.
She has remarked, on multiple occasions, that we are like one person, sharing a sense of humor and personality. I happen to agree; I’ve spent so long talking to her that we are, metaphorically speaking, more or less the same person. Of course, we each have our idiosyncrasies, our own facets of our lives. But at the core of our being, we are not very much different.
Back to the idea of being with her- a romantic relationship between us would not be very much different than the bond that we currently share. We already see each other often; we already share our thoughts. What could a romantic relationship possibly offer that we don’t already have?
If I ever do end up telling her the truth- which I intend to, once I stop worrying over pointless things- I want to do it right. I want to tell her why I feel the way I do- and how I love the closeness of the bond that we already share.
The relationship that we already share is purely platonic. That isn’t to say that it could never be otherwise, but that’s where we stand at this point. We have never discussed a possible relationship beyond a few words exchanged a few years ago.
It’s sad, isn’t it, to realize that I am so consumed by this when I could be doing so many other things. I could be furthering studies in programming- I could be studying for college, dammit, anything I want. But I choose to devote my brainpower to this question instead: Why don’t you? Because, at its core, that’s what this situation is: a refusal to step forward and tell the truth to one that I admire.
Am I a coward? I ask this because, in examining myself, I have found that I have no qualms about telling her these things in an anonymous letter that gives no hint of my identity. But when I think of looking her in the face and confessing, the thought is almost too much to bear. So, again: is this cowardice? Am I afraid to face her, and do I use the excuse of a fear of a loss of friendship to cover up that fear? Perhaps.
It’s not as if she doesn’t have a clue that I’m attracted to her. Or maybe she really doesn’t; I can’t guess. I’ve confessed these facts, in a shortened form, to a few people that I know regularly speak with her, so she might already know. She also might think that they’re lying and has no idea. Again, I can’t guess at the unguessable.