𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗥𝗬: "If Only I Knew What to Feel" by Gee Anne Robles

Published by: Iana Henson

Date Published: October 6, 2025

Time Published: 8:41 AM

Category: Prose

Theme: Unspoken Emotions and the Struggle of Uncertainty in Love

You look at me like I’m your whole world. I see it in the quiet devotion of your gaze, in the softness of your voice when you say my name, and in the way you always wait for me even when I never ask. You show up for me, again and again, as if loving me is the most natural thing in the universe. And yet, here I am—standing at the edge of everything you are offering, my hands trembling, unsure if I have the right to reach for it.

It’s not that I don’t see your love. I feel it in every detail you never miss—the way you notice when I’ve had a long day, the way you listen to my silences as though they’re louder than words. You make the world brighter, lighter, and easier. But not for me. Not now. Because the truth is, I don’t fully know what I feel. It’s not absence—it’s uncertainty, like standing in a fog where I can see glimpses of you, of us, but never the full picture. And part of me fears that if I step forward too quickly, I’ll only lose myself in the mist.

Maybe it’s because I’ve carried the weight of past heartbreaks—promises that crumbled, hands that once held me only to let go. A part of me still flinches at the thought of loving too deeply, as if love is always followed by loss. I fear the cracks I still carry inside me will cut you if I’m not careful. I’m afraid that in trying to love you while I’m still learning how to trust, I’ll end up hurting you in ways you don’t deserve.

You deserve someone sure—someone who meets your love with the same fire and clarity you give so freely. But I am not that person. Not yet. Some days, I ache to run into your arms and never leave. Other days, I feel a need to step back, to carve out silence just to hear myself think. And the worst part is knowing that my confusion becomes your burden, that my hesitation weighs down the very heart that only seeks to lift me.

And still, you remain patient. You never demand answers, never rush me into decisions I am not ready to make. Your kindness makes it harder, because you never fail me, and yet I feel like I am failing you simply by not knowing what to say, what to feel or what to choose. I wish I could promise you certainty. I wish I could tell you that my hesitation isn’t about you, but about the storms I still haven’t calmed inside myself.

Maybe one day, I’ll find the courage to step out of the fog. Maybe one day, I’ll be ready to stand in the light of what you’ve been offering all along. But until then, all I can give you is the truth—that my heart is not ready, but it is still learning, still hoping it won’t lose you before it learns how to love you the way you deserve.