I think I might know...

"Speak the truth, even if your voice shakes..."

I see this today on my computer screen...some sort of cosmic sign or irony jabbing me playfully in the side? Either way, I take it to heart on a fall day, while I'm Sunday driving and contemplating the right words to say.

I don't know where to start, and I'll admit that's new for me. I'm pretty famous for my rambling and my innate ability to go off on tangents endlessly. All I really know at this moment, is how glad I am you can't read this.

I haven't felt this way in a very long time. I know, everyone says this, and if you were reading, I would wager a bet that you'd be rolling your eyes. "Great opener", you'd certainly think, and cross your arms defensively over your chest. "And?", you'd prompt me, light up a cigarette, lean back on the bench and then tilt your head back gently. I'm wringing my hands at the mere thought.

You make me comfortable. We have been friends for a little while now, I say little, because in the great scope of all eternity, 3 years is little. I ramble some more, I talk about how funny I am, and try to make a joke. You laugh, but I can tell you're waiting for me to get to the goddamn point. So I do.

I think you're hilarious. When I'm around you, I know I can be myself completely. Yeah, I worry about how my hair looks, and if my eyelashes are curled up nice, but I don't concern myself with the small details, like, what I say coming out wrong. My opinions are expressed freely, and my jokes are never missed by you. We laugh, a lot. I like that. We have so much in common, and it keeps floating to the surface. You are a breath of fresh air in my life.

These things are not as important as what I am about to say. When I'm near you, I don't have to drink. I don't have to do anything I don't want to do. I don't have to be loosened up to look you in the eyes. After all I've been through, it's nice to not have to rely on liquid courage. You think I'm being funny, but I'm not. Hey, buddy, we both know I can swill a beer quicker than any man boasts he can...I'm 26 and I enjoy my freedom. What I'm saying is that I don't have to. You may not understand this fully, but grasp onto to this if nothing else: You put me at ease.

Now it's my turn to light up a smoke, in this pretend conversation we're having. By now, you're looking at me differently. I know, I know, I said I was the girl who didn't care. The girl who wanted to sleep with you, the insensitive badass who swears like a sea captain and doesn't give a damn if her jeans have holes, and I made you believe it all too. In a way, I am that girl. My heart, however, harbors a secret tenderness and I hate to admit, a flimsy protective layer that's easily broken. I am a conundrum. Get used to it.

Take a chance on me. This is all I'm asking. Hell, it's scary, trust me. Right now I could vomit at the thought of another relationship gone sour. But if I don't take a chance, I'll never know.

I want adventure with you. Coast trips and late night walks, fishing adventures, scary movies, dinner dates and all of the above. I didn't think it was possible, but I believe I am ready. We could paint the town red...and laugh the whole way.

If you're not ready, I'll understand. Truthfully, I will. But I have learned to speak the truth, even if my voice shakes.

So I am waiting. I'm going to turn my back now, and walk inside. You can think for a minute. If I come back, and you're gone, I'll still wish you well and thank you sincerely for opening my eyes, and being a good friend who MADE me realize how valuable I am again.

Thanks.

(Secretly I'm hyperventilating and crossing my fingers, watching out for black cats that cross my path, and diligently reading my horoscope. But on the outside, I lift my eyes to the sunset, and breathe the crisp air. I don't care...I'm an excellent actress, if the world only realized, I'd be filthy rich.)