Prompt: Confess Your Love

This week, I told August I love him.

P.C. Andrei Slobtsov

“Drift beautifully on the surface, and you will die unbeautifully in the depths.” – Richard Ellman.

Hello there,

This week, I told August I love him.

I had stewed in these forbidden feelings for months. Forbidden because he lives far away, and it would ruin our friendship and blah blah blah. The day I learned he got a girlfriend, I cried on my bike ride home to Angeleyes by ABBA and Stayaway by Muna, the ultimate breakup song. Although there was no breakup because we had never been together. I quickly exited our writing group because I couldn’t take it anymore. (Don’t worry, he unsubscribed from this newsletter, so it’s his own fault if he reads this. Turns out he wasn’t such a great guy after all). Two months have passed.

Then, last Saturday, I was at a bar with a new female friend from Newcastle.

“Fuck it! Why not just tell him?” she said to me.

I sipped my third IPA, a little hazy. Why not? What would happen if I did? It would rip my heart out. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t feel the same way about me. But then the band-aid would be off. Then I would be free. Then I’d have a shot at moving on.

The next day, I wrote out what to say.

“Hey. Can I talk to you for five minutes?” I messaged him.

“I’m getting gum surgery, so can’t really talk. But I can text?” August messaged back.  

Perfect, I thought. I can tell August how I feel, and he won’t even be able to say anything. So I did what is probably every man’s worst nightmare: I left him a five-minute-long voice note on his phone. I gave him a small taste of my pain and confusion in the purgatory of my love for him, which often felt more like torture. And then he didn’t respond. For four days. I thought he had finished with me.

He finally texted me back last night. Summarized:

“I’m sorry our relationship was both painful and confusing for you. I’m glad you’re healing and moving on. If you feel up for it in a few months, it would be great if we could keep our friendship.”

I had my answer. My dark cloud of shame of loving him but being incapable of telling him how much I loved him had lifted at last.

Suffering through my love for August, I can tell you that there is no light in our unspoken feelings. There is no relief in the beautiful things that get left unsaid. There is only relief in what we dare to share. Then we can be free.

Prompt

Have you ever repressed your feelings?

Have you ever shoved them under carpets and locked them away in trinkets from far-flung exotic countries as you left behind lovers and the secrets of your late-night ramblings?

Do you limit yourself and your love for other people to the mundane, hackneyed language of the day-to-day?

Is there a person you should confess your love to?

Is your heart on the tip of your tongue, and you only have to speak the words out?

Will you do it?

Or have you done it in the past?

How did that work out for you?

Please tell us your secrets in the comments.

Perhaps this person’s health isn’t doing so well, and you worry the very breath of your confession will break them. Perhaps they’re a stern, cold-hearted family member who might lash out at your goodwill. Or perhaps there is someone you owe an apology to. You hurt them because you love them. It doesn’t matter who, just how you will do it.

So, I’m daring you. Because we’re not promised tomorrow. Because you deserve to feel all your feelings and then let them go like tiny kites drifting away from you in an open field, up into the sky. It takes courage. But this is what being alive is all about. As I shared with August in my voice note, Maya Angelou said,

“Love liberates. It doesn't bind.”

Be brave out there, folks. Let me know if you confess your love to anyone! I believe in you.

Love,

Tash

💌 ✍️

Read more about August:

1. The New Era of Orgasm Data 📊

2. My Hard Biological Truth, Part 2 🧪

3. What’s it like to Orgasm on Psilocybin? ✨

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