If I were not a coward...

If I were not a coward, I would've told you in that letter years ago that I like you, not liked you. 

If I were not a coward, I would not have even given you a letter but told you myself. 

I would've told you how much I have been liking you and how I couldn't contain it anymore. But I didn't. 

If I were not a coward, I would've told you how you made my last year in college fun and exciting. It was actually one of the years I still think of until today and I would've told you then that how I was sure I would treasure it forever. 

I would've told you how I liked the hours we spent talking, the walks we did, the food we ate, the nights we spent goofing around, the few mornings we celebrated, and that one hug we shared. 

My admiration, my affection for you then was innocent and harmless. I liked the company you offered and I was happy with that. I actually didn't know what I wanted to do with that feeling, if I want us to be in a relationship or if I want more years than that. I was already happy with the days, weeks, months we shared and I couldn't ask for more. It was one of the years when my heart was clear and free from the dark smoke it always had. 

But I was a coward. And I was vague. And I did not make my feelings known as what they were. I pretended it was something else and thought it would be fine. Clearly, even though I have been telling myself I wouldn't care about your reaction, I knew deep down I would still. 

And yes, it was what you have given me, or the lack of it. Still, in the end, I was still disappointed. The ending was still the same. Now, I can't help but think if it would be different if, even just once, I were not a coward.