"I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun."~Pride and Prejudice
She is in love with him; somewhat tentatively, a little defiantly and so utterly. It is funny that she missed how and when it all began. It is funnier, the dumb things she does to be crammed in a tiny nook of his mind and linger, even if just for a moment. And it is positively hilarious that she takes solace in sentences like ‘at least he knows my name’, ‘once upon a time we had stood breathing the same air’, or ‘tomorrow is another day’.
She doesn’t conceal it; although to avoid awkwardness on his part on seeing her naked heart and mind, sometimes she covers it in a translucent wrap of ambiguity. She allows him a convenient escape under the pretense of never having known, stamping all over her vulnerabilities. She knows it is not his fault; he hadn’t asked for it. And it isn’t her fault too. Over the years she had built up her fortifications and defenses well, to ward off anyone from messing up her life, but he had walked right through those walls without ever intending to. He must have gone about living his usual life doing the usual things he does, and by some dumb accident ended up taking her hostage within her own life, completely unaware. And by doing just that, he had rooted her to him.
Unintended events remain undeclared, but in the mind and heart. She is not articulate enough to say it in clear, precise words; nor is she brave enough to withstand another blow of indifference. But inactivity is equally frightening, as is the thought that he knows how often she thinks about him. So she dons the translucent wrap of ambiguity, to allow him to walk away; or in a world of wishful thinking, to come to her someday.