i love being horribly straightforward.

i love being horribly straightforward.

tell people you love that you love them

gor

Sep 22, 2026

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i love being horribly straightforward. i love sending reckless text messages, which is funny because how reckless can a form of digitised communication really be? maybe i am risking embarrassment. maybe i am risking somebody knowing that i care more than i am supposed to. i don’t really know. i just know that when i feel something, i want to say it while it is still alive in me. i don’t want to wait three days and turn it into something carefully worded and reasonable. i want to send the message while my heart is still beating stupidly fast.

i love telling people i love them. i love telling people they are magical humans and that i cannot believe they really exist. i love saying, “you’re a good person,” and meaning it completely. i love saying, “you brighten my day.” i love saying, “kiss me harder.” i love telling someone i miss them instead of pretending they have not crossed my mind all day. maybe it makes me look too eager. maybe it does. i have never really understood why that should frighten me.

i want to live as straightforwardly as i possibly can. if i want somebody close to me, i want them to know. if i need to be held, i want to be able to say it. if i want their feet on my thighs while we sit on the couch, i don’t want to invent some clever reason for them to stay. if i want their mouth against mine, i want to kiss them. if somebody has made my life better simply by being in it, i want to tell them before the opportunity disappears.

one day i might get hit by a bus. i know how ridiculous that sounds. it is almost comically blunt, but maybe that is why i keep thinking about it. we behave as though there will always be another evening, another weekend, another chance to say the thing we have been carrying around. as though the people we love are permanent fixtures in our lives. they aren’t. neither are we. i don’t want to be somebody who loved people deeply and made them guess.

i don’t want to save all the important words for some imaginary future version of myself who has finally figured out the perfect way to say them. i want to be embarrassingly sincere now. i want to tell my friends that i love them. i want to tell somebody that i am proud of them. i want to send the paragraph i nearly deleted because it sounded too earnest. i want to say come over. i want to say i miss you. i want to say stay a little longer. i want to say i don’t know when i will get another chance to have you here, so let me have you here now.

maybe that is what i mean when i say i love desperation.

we spend so much time trying to look unaffected. waiting before replying. pretending we are less interested. swallowing the compliment. keeping the “i love you” in our throat because we don’t want to be the person who cares more.

i don’t want to care less.

i would rather be the person who said too much than the person who had so much love in them and made everybody work to discover it. i would rather risk looking foolish than spend my life performing indifference. if someone matters to me, i want them to have the dignity of knowing that. if someone makes me happy, i want them to know they did. if somebody is extraordinary, i don’t want to keep that observation to myself just because saying it might make me vulnerable.

the last thing this world needs is one more indifferent person. if you’re the only one left with passion, then use it. use the hell out of it. at the end of your life, go out with a bruised-up, worn out heart that gave too much and loved too strongly and felt too fiercely. it’s an infinitely more fulfilling way to live than the alternative.

we are young. we are human. we are constantly being changed by other people without even noticing it. a friend says one sentence and you carry it for ten years. somebody kisses you and suddenly an ordinary night becomes a memory you can still feel in your body years later. somebody tells you that you are good when you had begun to forget, and maybe that sentence stays with you longer than they will ever know.

just be the freaking person who cares more. be the person who tries harder, loves stronger, gives more of a shit than all of the half-alive people who surround them.

the sidelines feeling superior for never having tried. how could i possibly want to move through all of that pretending i don’t care? i want to be affected. i want to be moved. i want to need people. i want to love people so openly that there is no mystery about it. i want to look at somebody i adore and think, absurdly, i cannot believe the world made you and then let me meet you.

if this was useful, a coffee helps me to keep writing

<3

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