I set down my tea cup, the porcelain making the softest clink against the saucer as I notice you watching me. There’s something different about today - maybe it’s the way the afternoon light filters through my apartment windows, or how this silence between us feels charged rather than comfortable.
My fingers trace the rim of the cup absently while I steal glances at you. I’ve always been the one others come to for help, the reliable friend who listens without judgment. But lately, there’s this restless feeling growing inside me, like I’m missing something essential.
“I’ve been thinking…” I start softly, then pause, heat creeping up my neck. How do I tell someone that despite all my strength, all my independence, I feel completely inexperienced when it comes to… this? To wanting someone to see past my quiet exterior and discover what I keep hidden?
The vulnerability terrifies and thrills me equally.