I am sorry for being secretive with you. I grew up learning how to survive by keeping things inside. even my closest friend does not know most of my story. opening up has never been natural to me. what I shared with you was already more than I have ever given anyone, and still, I know it was not enough.

I am sorry for not telling you earlier the most essential and basic things. answers to questions that even strangers should have known, yet you did not. you have every right to feel hurt. you have every right to wonder why I kept parts of my life hidden from you. I feel ashamed that I allowed silence to sit between us where honesty should have been.

Since last week, I knew I needed to tell you. you are the person I want beside me for the rest of my life, and that means I must learn how to speak. I am not used to sharing. I am used to swallowing my stories and locking them away. even the simplest information feels terrifying to release. I need you to understand that my silence was not distance. it was fear.

When I finally told you about the past three years, I could not sleep. my body was shaking. not because of you, but because something finally clicked inside me. I realized how much of my life had been dictated by fear. I realized how deeply I had been hiding, even from myself. and in that moment I understood something else too. no one in this world understands me the way you do. no one knows the pieces of me that you know.

I cried because even when I thought I was giving you so little, it was still more than I had ever given anyone. you carry truths about me that no one else does. and still, I feel guilty for not trusting you sooner. I woke up missing you and feeling heavy, wishing I had opened my hands earlier instead of keeping them closed around everything.

North, I have lived lives that no one knows about. I have stories that would surprise even those who think they know me. I carried them alone for years. they made my heart heavy. they hardened me. they created a version of me that felt like a monster just to survive. I do not want to leave this world with those stories buried inside me. I want to share them. I want you to be the first to hear them.

It hurts now in a physical way. my chest feels tight, as if something long frozen has begun to thaw. maybe this is what heartbreak feels like. if it hurts me this much to realize what I hid, I cannot imagine how it felt for you to sit in that silence. you must have felt confused. maybe disappointed. maybe alone in ways I did not see.

I do not have perfect words to repair this. I only have honesty now. take the time you need. ask me anything you want. if you need space to think, I will respect that. if you need me to sit and answer every question slowly, I am here. and if forgiveness cannot come today, I will wait. I would wait years if that is what it takes.

I am no longer choosing silence. I am choosing you. and if you can find it in your heart to forgive my secrecy, know that I will spend the rest of my life proving that I am capable of openness, of trust, and of loving you without hiding.