Russian Roulette

Should I be brutally honest?

I'd say how much it meant to simply see your name there.

It is so very silly, but it felt like a hug. It was, it is, comforting.

Do not blame me. They had proven over and over again that leaving was easy. So much so that I started to believe I was meant to be left alone. I cannot describe how scary that is. No matter how composed and fulfilled I was, it happened enough times that I questioned myself. What if it is my fault?

So, in seeing your name, I see much more. I see a smile, a nod, someone holding my hand to reassure me that I am worth loving as I am.

But it also matters because it is you. You see, the more you admire and love people, the more you'd want them to think well of you.

I've been running for so long these last years, built so much, tore down so much. Among all of that, I still long for a gentle glance. Yours was always caring.

It's not your responsibility, far from that. You don't owe me anything.

But, if I am brutally honest, I still crave it.

I talked to you for years only in my imagination. Then, I reached out so many times. I wore my heart on my sleeve, crushed any remnant of ego. I put it into words and sent it your way twice, I think. Always more honest than before. I even extended an olive branch, even though there was no war.

The response was civil. Knowing you know me so well, I couldn't help but feel perplexed. It's not even bittersweet, or maybe it is. It just felt cold. I do understand, though.

If I had frozen time and lived in the past for so long, my perspective is bound to be skewed.

That is to say, despite all of this, I anticipate seeing your name.

If I am brutally honest, it terrifies me, yet I think it is beautiful.

I believe, since it is you, I allow myself to do so.

Had it been anyone else, no amount of longing would ever justify the silly thought.

It is intriguing for me to watch myself and gauge when I need it most. It is usually when I need you most.

I wonder if there will ever be a day when I will no longer do this.

So far, it has been a sweet little habit, albeit slightly self destructive.

To know it might hurt, yet do it regardless.

Wagering some self worth, my deserving of love, on a mere experiment.

Still, it is beautiful, only because it is you.