Why You Think You Shouldn't, Even Though You Can

Each one of as probably has things in mind that we choose to keep, burdensome secrets that we wish we could simply tell, or emotions and sentiments that we choose to hide in our faked smiles. Blurting it out is always an option, but we choose to shun this idea. Maybe because we are afraid. Or maybe because we lack enough provocation to do so. Or maybe because we merely did not have enough courage. 

I have been pondering on this idea for a while. I have been looking back at some significant memories which could have been altered by simply telling how I really felt with no holds barred. What if I told him that I also love him 2 and 1/2 years ago when he confessed his feelings 1 month after? What if I told him that it felt like a dagger was thrown directly to my heart when he told me that he already loved somebody else right after I confessed to him? What if I told him that I have been under what seemed like a incessant suffering? What if I stopped pretending that it was okay?  It would have been a big relief and things would probably have been very different today. But then, the painful reality dawns again and I start to realize that no matter what I do, I cannot really change what has already conspired. 

So why do we do it? Why do we choose to embrace the pain even though there was an option to release it? I do believe that choosing not to tell is not necessarily wrong. Yes, maybe we are afraid and maybe we feel the pang of confusion. But at the end of the day, we choose to keep these things because in our discernment, it is what we think is right. We become martyrs because  we tend to save people who were supposed to know from melodrama. Because that is how you love. You let yourself become the sacrificial lamb. However, we also have to realize that in doing this, we also salvage ourselves from dealing with more ache that may arise if we tell more than what we were supposed to. And so we simply choose to wait for the memories to become oblivious or maybe unrelentingly wait for the right time. But then we set no lucid definition on "the right time" and so it seems to never come after all.

Whether it is right or not, we have to admit that we still wish we had told them. It maybe too late and may incur no significant bearing on the current situation but at least you were able to tell. At least you stop wondering of endless possibilities. At least you can unload yourself from the extra baggage in your mind and heart. At least you become honest and genuine for once.

 But even if you can, you still think you shouldn't. You wait and wait till you never get to say it. You succumb to the cowardice and fear of the unknown outcome. You decide that you'd rather "not know" than feel more pain because you might simply breakdown if the opposite of what you anticipate happens. You know "it can". We cannot run from the fact that we are not devoid of being hurt, and maybe we acknowledge it too much that we simply ascribe it to the future. 

2 and 1/2 years later, right at this moment, I still choose not to tell even though the love I had once for him has died already. I have to admit that I am afraid of the possibility that the shards of feelings I had would coalesce in a single form and that I would fall but my heart would be broken once again. Because that's what always happens. And ever since that incident, I somehow become calloused. Maybe because I also simply have chosen not to feel again. However, I do wish I could be transparent. I do wish that I am not afraid because I still keep on wondering what could have been. I know I can tell him, but I still think I should not. The right time might never come...