Three Words That Became Hard To Say

Do you want to know a secret?

I bet you do. I bet you're sitting on the edge of your seat with anticipation. Because I know you; I know you'd be both eager and a little hurt to learn that there's something I've kept from even you.

But nobody knows what I am about to tell you. Not even James, my best friend and brother, or Rose, who's like a sister to me … Neither of them know this. Neither of them know about the sheer force of emotion that I have been keeping inside of me for so long.

You most certainly do not know. If you did, our whole friendship, my whole world, would come crashing down around our feet.

I wouldn't be able to live with that. I wouldn't be able to live with knowing that it was I who threw away my one source of comfort.

Because I can't live without you. It's that simple really. That's why I have never told you what I am about to share with you.

We share everything. Secrets, lies, love.

Not this.

This is something you won't get a say in. You will not sit there and demand that I take it back.

I won't let you.

It shouldn't be so hard to talk to you, to sit you down and say what I have to say. But it is. That's why I'm writing this; because both you and I know that if I told you this secret in person you would avoid me like I was contaminated for the rest of the year.

Maybe even longer, depending on how badly you took it.

But first, before I divulge you in the vast luxuries of knowledge, I just want to make it clear why this is happening.

I have known you for what feels like most of my life. You have stood by me, you have supported me, when I make mistake after bloody mistake.

You don't accuse me or tell me I'm wrong. You don't pity me; you understand and empathise to the best of your ability.

Lysander, you are the weirdest and most wonderful boy I have ever known. You're quiet and smart, but underneath all that you are perfect.

I don't want to destroy that perfection. I don't want to cast some dark spell and tear a hole in your heart. That would kill me.

Because I know for a fact that you will never forgive me for this. You will accept it, you will stop thinking about it, but somewhere in that intricate brain of yours it will lie there, festering away at your thoughts.

I care about you too much to hurt you. I like our strong friendship too much not to destroy it.

I adore the way you say my name, the 'Lily' rolling off your tongue so easily. I've become a second nature to you, you rely and depend on me just as much as I do you.

You would be hurt if I distanced myself from you because of this. Even though you may not like what I am going to tell you, you would still care about me unconditionally and still want to be my friend.

That, my dear, was the deciding factor in this.

Why shouldn't I tell you? I know the reasons, I despise the reasons … but you would still be my friend.

It's that simple really. But they're the three words that became hard to say after we grew up and gained experience of life.

I and love and you.