Zk | plan-1

Over the last few days, I have been sending Kay a few emails. I am ashamed to admit that this is an intentional aspect of some grander plan. One could say that it is to get her re-accustomed to getting emails from me, though this is a somewhat less than charitable way of looking at it.

In reality, it is a way for me to psych myself up for sending what I hope to be the email wherein I discuss my feelings for her. It’s less that she needs some sort of preparation for simply receiving an email, and more that I need to get myself ready to actually click the button that sends it.

I am clearly struggling with this process if I am feeling the need to not only psych myself up to email someone but also journal about the process of psyching myself up.

I am, as always, a coward. That I even need to do this over email is proof enough of that.

Anyway, here is what I am thinking that I will send her tomorrow — it is getting late today and I want to be awake for the whole process.

Kay

If you had told me, over the years that we have known each other, that I would be writing to you like this, I wouldn’t have believed you. It’s a strange enough act on its own, sending you an email, but to do so like this, to send something like this, is so strange as to border on the ludicrous.

We’ve known each other for a good, what, five years now? And have been friends for a good chunk of that time. For some reason, we just kind of click when we really get going talking to each other, sharing whatever thing we’re interested in at the time. We share a lot of the same idiosyncrasies, verbal habits, and even coping mechanisms.

Lately, I have noticed something of a change in myself. I’ve always enjoyed your company, of course, but I have noticed that my feelings of friendship are starting to take on a romantic bent.

I’m sure that I could go on, as you know I am prone to doing, but that would only muddy the point. Needless to say, I like you Kay, and am starting to admit to myself that I am liking you more as time goes by. And though I’ve been hesitant to put it in such words even to myself, I think I’m falling in love with you.

I don’t know how to do this. I am a consummately awkward person by my own admission, and I’ve never had to admit that I’ve started to feel romantic toward someone before. Perhaps that’s weird. Normal people, I suspect, have told several people that they’re in love by the time that they’re nearing thirty, but, well, it has just never been on my radar.

I feel compelled to say that you are under no obligation to return these feelings toward me. If you don’t feel the same way, that’s completely fine, and I hope that this will not negatively impact your view of me as a friend. This is a feeling I’ve had toward you, but it need not be the only feeling I have.

But, on the chance that this is a mutual feeling between us, I would like to deepen our relationship beyond friendship. As stated, I have no idea how to do this, so I suppose I’m asking you out ☺

Again, no worries if not! I am simply happy to have you as my friend.

Best,

Dee

I have slaved over these words so long that I think I nearly have the letter memorized. It’s silly, in a way, to put this much energy into something, but this entire process has been silly. It’s been silly since I caught myself having dreams about her, and before even that, when I started this whole journal process.

But I am nothing if not deliberate, and this feels like the proper way to undertake a discernment, though I find that term most often in a religious context. I am digging deep into all of my thoughts, stripping away the extraneous ones, and then boiling the remainder down into an admission. An admission to myself, but also one that I can send to Kay.

I will think on it and pray on it for one more night before sending it, but honestly, of all of the decisions that I’ve made around this entire debacle, if it can be called that, this one feels the most freeing. It feels like me opening a little bit of space for myself.

It was all well and good for me to reduce my feelings to trying to be the best friend I could be for her¹, and one ought to keep in mind the selfless in one’s life, but, well, one cannot be a truly good friend while withholding information. I cannot, at least. I can’t be a good friend while continuing to tear myself up inside over this. I called myself a narcissist before in these pages, but, while perhaps some of my thoughts have been narcissistic, that is far to strong a word than required for simply striving for happiness.

I will think, I will pray, and then I will click “send”.