If I never told you that I loved you, I don't know where we would stand. Maybe we would still be friends. Maybe we would have ended up together in the end anyway. Maybe we would both still be alive.
Frankly, I don't know.
All I know is that when I first fell for you, I didn't know how to handle it. I delved into my writing, creating songs for you, creating sonnets about you, created short stories about the life I wish we could have together in a world where you weren't straight, and I was brave enough to come out to you.
It was easier to dream than to face reality.
You were dating some guy you didn't want to, and I was trying not to hate him, for you sake. I knew that I could treat you well, maybe not as creepily well as your pseudo stalker, but well nonetheless. I could talk to you at night when you needed a distraction. I could pick you flowers and tuck them behind your ear. I could respect the fact that you didn't want to be kissed, and you could love me for that-
If you weren't straight, and if I were brave enough to come out to you.
It took me three times to tell you that I loved you. You didn't hear me the first time, and you didn't understand me the second time, but the third time, with tears streaming down my face, you understood, and you didn't talk to me for the rest of the day.
I was imagining a life without you- a life I didn't want to live. I would respect the fact that you didn't want to be my friend anymore. I could stay distant, isolating myself to make you feel comfortable. I would have done all of that, if I lasted long enough to hear you say that.
Maybe if I never told you that I loved you I wouldn't have been walking home from school instead of taking the bus. Maybe if I never told you that I loved you I wouldn't have slipped on the December ice and cracked the back of my head on the snowy road. Maybe if I never told you that I loved you I wouldn't have stumbled into the middle of the road and gotten hit by a tractor-trailer.
It was my own damn fault. My brother never should have blamed you for my own stupidity, but he did anyway, and that's why he killed you. I never wanted that to happen. I wanted you to live a long and happy life, but you can't, and it's because I told you that I loved you.
At least now that we're both dead and in the same bit of Heaven, together, I know that you really did love me too.