I’m sorry that I could never truly tell you how I felt.

By Victoria Kushner

There’s something I have to get off of my chest.

And I’m scared to do it. I don’t know how to say it.

But I have to try, because watching you in class and seeing you in the halls is killing me.

Do you remember that one night last summer when you asked me if I loved you?

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You probably don’t and I’m convinced that you were half-kidding.

But, your question deserves to be answered truthfully – even if I’m a little late, because I do love you.

When I read your question, my mind went straight into panic mode.

I’m not someone who expresses their affection often, so it is a foreign concept to me.

At this moment, however, my thoughts were screaming.

I kept repeating to myself, “Tell him. Tell him you love him…”

But, I couldn’t do it. My whole body was paralyzed, but my mind was on fire.

I wanted to tell you everything.

The simple fact is that I’ve been in love with you from the minute that we met.

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My fingers didn’t type ‘yes,’ though. My mind was begging me to confess, but the only word I could form was ‘no’.

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