Alright, gonna share how my “telling him” experiment went down. Total nerve-wracking mess, but kinda worked? Grab a coffee, this gets detailed.
The Panic Sets In
So there’s this guy. Been hanging out loads, texting constantly, feeling those butterflies going wild. Kept staring at my phone, drafting messages like “Do you maybe…?” and immediately deleting them. Classic chicken move. Needed a plan, bad.
Hitting the Research Books (Okay, Google)
Went full detective mode. Typed in “how to tell someone you like them without looking like a total dork” – bam, articles everywhere talked about “expert methods.” Felt like finding cheat codes. The big themes?
- Low Pressure Setting: Don’t ambush them in front of everyone.
- Be Direct-ish: No Shakespearean sonnets required, but gotta be clear.
- Manage Expectations: Prep for any answer, don’t assume it’s a yes.
- Use Openers: Have an actual sentence ready so your brain doesn’t freeze.
Sounded smart. Decided to mash a few ideas together.
The Practice Run (Spoiler: Failed)
Okay, first attempt? Disaster. Tried it over coffee. Planned to say “Hey, I really enjoy spending time with you, more than just friends.” Simple, right? Brain did a full blue screen error. Mouth went dry. Blurted out: “This coffee is… brown!” Genius. He just laughed, clueless. Abort mission.
Switching Gears: Creating the “Low Pressure” Zone
Right. Needed neutral ground. Remembered he loves feeding ducks at the park. Harmless, right? Texted him Sunday morning: “Park? Got extra bread crusts.” Casual enough. Felt sneaky but expert.
Walked around, chucking bread at disinterested ducks. Heart hammering like a drum solo. Kept reminding myself: Just get the words out. Any words.
Launching the Confession Protocol
Found an empty bench. Sat down. Deep breath. Hands were kinda sweaty. Went for it:
“So… this might sound random,” I started, staring hard at a particularly bold mallard. “But I gotta say it. I really, really like hanging out with you. Like, a lot.” Paused. Glanced sideways. He was looking at me, not the duck. Uh oh.
“And… I kinda wish it wasn’t just as friends.” There. Threw up. Okay, didn’t actually throw up. But wanted to.
The Moment of Truth (And Avoiding Awkward Silence)
Silence. The longest five seconds ever. Duck quacked. Saved by waterfowl?
Then he smiled. Like, a real big one. “Oh,” he said. Smooth. “Yeah, me too. Like, way more than just friends.”
Brain short-circuited again. “Wait… seriously?” So eloquent.
He laughed. “Seriously. Was wondering when you’d say something. Your coffee comment was weird.”
Post-Op Review: Did the “Methods” Work?
Sorta? Didn’t stop the initial panic attack or the weird coffee sabotage. But:
- Picking the right setting saved me. Park = chill vibes. Not stressful like a crowded place.
- Having the openers helped the second time. Even if I bumbled, the core message got through.
- Being upfront was key. No confusing hints. He knew exactly what I meant.
- Prepping for rejection helped my nerves. Reminded myself it might not go my way, and that was okay.
The biggest win? Avoiding the epic awkward freeze. Got it done. Still felt awkward after, but the good kind. We just sat there grinning like idiots at the ducks.
Final Thoughts? Just Rip the Band-Aid
Methods or no methods, it boils down to spitting it out. The experts gave me a framework to not totally implode. It won’t be smooth. You’ll probably say something dumb. But choosing the moment, being clear, and accepting the outcome? That’s the gold. Saved me from months of cryptic texts and internal screaming. Now? Just gotta figure out what to say on the first actual date. Wish me luck.
