How to say it
But not to really say it at all.
After months and months of hemming and hawing and chickening out, I finally made an attempt to tell him.
He knew something was up.
I worked up the nerve to tell him that I was a big chicken. Because I had something to tell him, and that I’ve been trying to find a way to tell him for months.
Even then, in that moment, when I knew I was on the verge of letting the words roll through my mouth and off my lips… I hesitated.
Rather than push me to tell him ‘What is it?’ ‘What?’ ‘Tell me.’ ‘Come ON’ - he asked everything but the ‘What’ to find out what I was talking about. He knew already.
As I answered his questions the conversation felt less pressured. We giggled about something one or the other said. We talked quietly for awhile until the subject returned.
Eventually he asked me, “Would it help if I said I know, and I’ve known for awhile?”
I thought that he might, and I said as much.
“How could I not?”
I didn’t cry. I can’t believe I didn’t cry. I always freaking cry.
In the end, I never said the words. But, he knows.
For now, that’s enough.
