Tell Her

If I could speak my truth, I would tell her that I don’t care that she’s given up on men. I would tell her the things I avoid saying whenever I pen phrases that serve simply to beat around the bush. Just like that last sentence. I would offer repentance for the deeds that were done by others that damaged her trust and caused her to disparage her worth. I would tell her that nothing on earth compares to her and though the search may continue for millennia to come there will not be found one single item, element, star, moon, or sun that can rival her beauty. I would tell her that she is truly gifted. Explain that she has more talent in one finger lifted than most people have in their family tree. I would tell her that she is most definitely going to succeed in whatever she deems worthy of her time and effort. I would tell her that I would love nothing more than to be one of the reasons she smiles each day and I would find as many new ways to make that happen as possible. If I could, I would tell her that I have not been open and honest with her from the start. Cuz you see, in my heart, I knew from day one that I was in trouble. The simple fact that I stuttered and stumbled my way through each conversation that I tried to make told me clear, cut, and plain; this woman is special, even more so than most. I would tell her that I do not know of any other person as remarkably captivating, no one even comes close. I would tell her how I hope that one day I’ll be able to come home early from work just to bring flowers, make dinner, feed the cat, walk the dog, and make sure everything was in order before she returned. So that in turn she would not have to worry about trivial tasks. I would ask how her day was and listen intently. We could sip wine, watch a movie, and then consequently we might fall asleep. I would lift her to bed and tuck her in gently, leave her with the soft touch of my lips on her cheek. Sneak away to the kitchen to grind beans for the morning. Set the place for her coffee and spend the next hour adorning the table with little notes of the things that I might have forgotten to say while she was awake. Like “just so you know, love, you look beautiful today”. If I could speak my truth, I would tell her that I’m scared to lose the slight chance I might have to one day be a significant part of her life. I would tell her that, even though I know I do, I’m afraid to admit to her face that I love her. I would tell her how I’ve used the fact that I want nothing more for her than that she be happy forever as a reason to never tell her of my feelings. I would explain how I know I do not measure up but how one day, I hope when I amount to enough, for better or worse I’ll tell her of my love. And whether or not I’m crushed by the lack of an “I love you too” really won’t matter, because at least I will know I’d finally spoken my truth.