Half-Truth Heart

I tried to love once— or maybe I only tried to understand what love was supposed to feel like.

So I built a story, stitched a boy out of silence, told my friends, “he’s real,” just so I wouldn’t have to explain why I felt so alone.

But then there’s you.

Every time you come close, my heart forgets how to act normal— it stumbles, like it knows something I’m too scared to admit.

They laugh, they tease, tie our names together like it’s a joke, and I— I cut the string quickly.

“I have a boyfriend,” I say, even though the only thing I have is fear wearing confidence as a mask.

You sit beside me, close enough for quiet to matter, and I push you away— not because I want to, but because everyone is watching.

And my feelings— they don’t stay still.

Some days, I like you. Some days, I don’t. Some days, I look at others and confuse attraction with something deeper.

But somehow, in the middle of all that noise, you stay.

Not because of how you look, but because of how you are— kind, patient, real in a way that scares me.

And maybe that’s the truth I keep running from:

It’s easier to pretend than to feel something that might actually matter. TO: --- ---- ------ yoado