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You look tired, no, exhausted, can I say that? Sure we are friends, right? The fact that I have Dutch genes adds to the excuse of being terribly honest. No sleep you say? You look like you have lots on your mind. You look worried. Not the easy going, relaxed boy I left behind a little startled on the Rembrandtplein somewhere at the beginning of December.

Has it been that long?

Yup, and a lot has happened during now and then, Sinterklaas, Christmas, New Years, and stuff in between. I could sit here all afternoon telling you the weirdness that I have witnessed during the last 6 weeks, but you look tired, exhausted, you look distant. I should go home.

I told a lie (sometimes I tell lies, not massive big ones, but little white ones for the greater good of this world). I hadn’t just come to see if you were okay. I came to see if WE were okay. Although when I arrived at you door I realized I didn’t quite know what I meant by that.

Although it’s my heritage to apologize, I’m not going to today. I’m not apologizing for a kiss, and I am definitely not apologizing for the crush. My kisses are butterflies, light, pretty, and free. They never come with a ball and chain. As for the crush… you should feel nothing but honored. It doesn’t happen that often. You have been added to a select few that I deemed special enough to receive my admiration, to be part of the butterflies and the magic in my life.

December was the month I was told by a little too many close friends that I have a big wall up to keep out the ‘good guys’ of this world. Close friends can be hard bitches. They know you in and out, and they are not afraid to tell you the truth. They do it because they love you, because they care about you, because they want you to make the most of life. I never asked them for their opinions. I didn’t really want to hear. They don’t want to hear about the sob stories, about the last time you ventured out from behind your wall. They were there, remember? They’ve seen you grow; they know you are strong enough. So, what’s stopping you?

And then I woke up one day I thought: so what?

So what I have a crush on my friend Sam? he’s a good guy. He deserves to be on that list. He had done well to sweep me off my feet.

So what it isn’t mutual? isn’t all about giving, without expecting anything in return. It’s the preferred way, in my opinion.

So what if he’s runs away (this ‘so what’ was a little tougher to accept, because I had come to enjoy the company, friendship and exchange of laughs, thoughts and feelings). That would be his prerogative; can’t stop a man from running now.

I needed to tell you all this. I needed to say thank you for making the effort of sweeping. I needed to tell you that I’m all good. I needed you to know that I think you are a great travelling writer and wouldn’t want anything to stop those stories being told.

I need to.

But you looked so tired, so exhausted when I walked in. And I figured you didn’t really want to hear. I thought it would selfish to make it all about me, and my insecurities. So I decide to try and put all I wanted to say in a hug.

And from the safety of laptop I can write it all down; black on white. It would be here on my hard drive to read and reread and rewrite if necessary. It would be here if I decided to email you.

A liberated heart is a happy heart. Sometimes that is the most important; more important than the consequences. It’s a step forward for me, who is learning a little every day. Innocent words put on paper without hope or agenda.

A heart that speaks; an open heart.