Four months of texting, and nobody said it first

The phone buzzes once in a dark room. "Want to see a movie this weekend?" She reads it and her heart speeds up while her hands go cold. Four months of texting every single day — and one line still makes her sit up straight.

She types a long reply. Reads it back. Too much. Cuts it down. Reads it again. Still too obvious. Cuts again. What finally goes out is two words: "Yeah, okay." Two seconds to type, fifteen minutes to decide. Then she puts the phone down and sits there smiling to herself in the dark, not daring to ask anything else.

Some nights they text until one, two in the morning. Her eyes are already closing, but neither of them will say "go to sleep" first. Because saying it ends the night, and ending the night feels a little too close to ending whatever this is. So she types "goodnight," then lies there and opens the chat again from the top.

The date is still three days away. And tonight she's already opened the closet and tried on a third shirt. Not to look good — but because looking too good would give away that she was hoping for more than two friends at a movie. In the end she hangs one on the hook, shuts the closet, and asks no one anything.

Three shirts for one word. Why ask? She already knows.

Some feelings never get named and still keep you unsettled all week. Are you waiting for someone else to say it first — or are you like her, already sure, just not ready to admit it to yourself?