My breath rose, seemingly tangible before my face with each exhale as we walked side by side. Neither of us had spoken for a while, but rather focused on keeping our steady pace and taking in the chill evening, likely to be one of the last entirely tolerable ones of the year. My thoughts were few, but significant; refusing to be ignored. A memory here, an idea there, a yearning most prevalent among them. They shared a common face and voice. I wanted you to know the fondness with which I was thinking of you. I wanted to tell you that I felt everything you did was important, captivating and graceful. I wished I could confess, right then and there on that dark sidewalk, that you had my whole being at your disposal, whether or not you wanted it. I knew the words were there, ones which should have been spoken far away from that empty street and long before that night. I inhaled slowly, cooling my core, steeling myself to allow a brief glimpse at a more vulnerable and reckless side of me.

But would it be worthwhile?

There it was: the question I had so dreaded, and had known would arise. I wished then, and still do, that I had not known myself so well; fearing the hesitation may have guaranteed its awakening. Being a cautious person, I was bound to consider the possible consequences of such a confession as i was preparing to make. I thought of who I would hurt, who I might hurt, and everything that might be lost. Should you brush the words off, you might be rid of them, but they would remain echoing in the air around me, maybe forever. If only they would dissipate like the moisture on my breath, crystallizing and crumbling and becoming nothing after leaving my tongue. I couldn’t deceive myself; I knew that I would not speak. The struggle only lasted a split second. You didn’t see the flash of subtle self-disgust in my eyes. Maybe it was the breath: slow, deep, the exhale shuddering slightly. Whatever it was that broke your reverie, you were compelled to break the silence first.

“What’s on your mind right now?”

I paused briefly, composing my thoughts.

“Oh, nothing.”

I watched as the breath bearing my gentle omission froze, twisted, and was gone.