Many things I wish I could convey to you yet now is neither the time nor the place. Never may be a

better time for then I can go to my final resting knowing how I felt yet never feeling the rejection that

you would have shown me. Oft more than not I find myself reaching out to you, beginning to speak

as I start to spill all my emotions to you in rivers that have been threatening to flood over for some

time now. An emotional dam demanding me to open it though I wouldn't dream of doing so. Hence

I bite my tongue against the words choking my throat and then I pretend to be dumb to the fact that

they are indeed there, yet to be spoken, knowing they never will be.