When you’re afraid to tell someone how you really feel, it’s rarely because the feeling isn’t strong — it’s because the past has already taught you how much honesty can cost.
You start measuring your words, your hope, your heartbeats, because you’ve learned the hard way that opening up can leave you exposed. The fear isn’t of love itself… the fear is of repeating the pain you barely survived the last time.

It’s a strange, fragile place to stand — wanting someone, trusting someone, feeling drawn to their energy, yet terrified that revealing the truth might shatter the safety you’ve built. You worry that if you speak your heart, the connection might change, or disappear, or prove that your intuition was wrong.

But here’s the quiet truth:
The right person won’t make you pay a price for being vulnerable.
The right person won’t punish you for feeling deeply.
The right person won’t see your honesty as a burden, but as a gift.

Being afraid doesn’t mean you’re weak — it means you remember.
Being cautious doesn’t mean you don’t care — it means you’re still healing.
And wanting to protect yourself doesn’t take away from the fact that your feelings are real.

One day, with the right person, courage won’t feel like a gamble.
It will feel like a conversation.