Four months of futile denial forces me to realize that I am attracted to you.
That I care about you, quite a bit. That I’d like to get to know you.
I’m not in a position to tell you this.
We’re women.
You’re old enough to be my mother and then some.
You were my professor. I’m still a student at our institution.
I already know that you care about me to an extent — last time I checked, you
don’t think of a person often (and tell them so) unless you care for them.
I wish I could ask you how much you do. Not only am I not brave enough, it just
wouldn’t be right.
Yet.
confession n. A written or oral statement acknowledging guilt, made by one who has been accused or charged with an offense.
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It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution.
— Oscar Wilde
It's kind of like being in someone's head while they're praying or thinking about things they'd never say outloud.
— Yaflapkik
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June 7th, 2009 at 6:53 pm
Not only would it not be right, “yet”, are you sure they are bisexual/lesbian?