Reading Between The Lines.

For someone who clearly has such an aptitude for reading, he still can't see. I think it's over now. I refuse to say it to his face- then all my dignity would be lost, and he has me on my knees already! How many hints do I need to give? How often will I have to hold my breath to stop me from spilling my heart to him?

This is the closest I have come now to saying it directly. I'm a coward, a coward with a fraction of self respect. I've written the words, where he can see them. He must know they are for him? I feel ashamed. I shouldn't.

I hide my face behind a veil. He doesn't sense me, so talks at me instead. Without me he is lonely...he tells me this. So if he is so despairingly alone, why leave me at all? I would give him all of me, and he'd never be lonely again, and yet he will not have it.

And before this, he demands to know my secrets! My biggest secret is not a secret at all. I could scream it at him and he wouldn't get the picture.

Michael Alexander Ian Kebblewhite, it turns out I love you, you silly man!!