She, him, her

She listened to him speak of her. She heard the changes in the tone of the his voice and how he got excited at the mention of her name. She watched his expressions light up as he repeated the stories that he had shared with her; the times they had spent and the experiences that they'd had.

He spoke of how her actions had made him laugh, and how he loved her reactions; her care-free nature, and the fact of her being easily entertained. Smart, funny, beautiful, and unique were the ways that he described her. He was surprised at the ease at which they got along, at the many views that he shared with her.

She could feel the affection and admiration he was already nursing for her. Despite his denials, she could tell he was really fond of her and all that he had in common with her; even with her out of the room, his chemistry with her was almost palpable. As a friend, she cheered him on and encouraged more stories from him about her.

As a girl, she quietly wished she was her.
...

Sometimes you can't always say what you would like to. Sometimes it's out of empathy, sometimes it's out of tact. Other times it's out of fear; fear of not being taken seriously, or fear of facing rejection.

And then sometimes, you take the plunge and try to say all that you've been holding inside, and it just doesn't come out the way you had expected and you wish you had never said anything in the first place. But then, had you not taken the plunge, you would never have known.