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I have a confession to make.

I love Castle.

I feel rather ridiculous admitting it, but it’s totally true. I started watching the show late (I don’t own a television), but caught up on Hulu. When I have the opportunity, I enjoy watching it in prime-time.

It’s not that the show is about a writer. It’s not the strong female lead. It’s not even the ability to solve a murder in under an hour.

No, it’s because I am a romantic.

I am a flowers for no reason, spontaneous picnics in the park, kayaking all day, reading to one another in bed, rubbing her feet after a bath, cooking a great dinner just because, love notes in her backpack romantic.

I have always been this way. I wear my heart on my sleeve. When I love someone, I don’t hesitate to let her know it. I am the first to buy concert tickets to see her favorite band. I surprise her with homemade dessert in her packed lunch.

And I listen. I want to catch every detail, as numerous as the tiny hairs on her arms.

I have this belief that when you love someone, you let them know. Sure, it’s a delicate dance of give and take, of finding the right moment, of not stepping on the toes of her or others. It’s important, though, for that person to know exactly how and what you feel.

Imagine if Sonny had never said to Cher, “I got you, babe.”

I believe that, as humans, we want to be loved. We want to hold hands, want to be held, want to grow old with someone. We’re pack animals, seeking a mate and creating a home together.

I want all of these things. I want to do them, be them, for another, and I want another to do and be them for me. I have experienced that everyone shows their affection in different ways. I think it might be strange if the woman I loved did the exact same things I do to show love.

But still, I want to be loved. I want to be adored for just me.

I am spurred to write this for many reasons. Mainly, it is because of Castle. Of the season finale, when Beckett realizes that if she doesn’t speak up, even though she’s dating someone else, she’ll lose Castle. So she breaks up with the other guy, determined to express her feelings, as difficult as it will be for her (she’s not the type to wear her heart on her sleeve). And Castle, for his part, gives up. He finds someone else with whom he can spend the summer in the Hamptons. He knows that Beckett is worth it, every ounce of it, and yet resigns himself to not having a chance.

I am not like Castle. I, in this instance, am Beckett.

Though in my case, my actions look a lot like Castle’s.

Sometimes, as hard as it is, the only way to show someone how you really feel is to back away. Each of wants our own things, and sometimes the person you love wants something (or someone) else. Truly loving someone means respecting that.

Now, DO NOT get me wrong. I will always fight for the woman I love. I will defend her honor, I will tell her when I think she has messed up, and I will stand for her when others are treating her with disrespect.

I remember once, hearing during a romantic comedy, the saying:

“If you truly love someone, set them free. If they were yours to begin with, they will return. If they don’t, they never yours were from the start.“

At the time, I hated this. It felt counter-intuitive and incredibly possessive. No can be mine. I don’t belong to anyone else. But I understand it now. Sometimes the only way a person can see how much we love them is by being apart. And, if we really do love them, we respect that need for space. It may be that find the person of their dreams and live happily ever after.

We might not be that person.

But I truly believe, in my deepest heart of hearts, that sometimes, maybe just when we least expect it, we are that person. And if they hadn’t had the chance to go out and be in the world, they never would have known it.

So maybe that’s what will happen for Castle and Beckett. Maybe the beginning of the next season will find Castle racing back to the city early to propose. Maybe they’ll just go on a date. Or maybe Beckett will get back together with the other guy (from Burglary) and forget about Castle.

Maybe she’ll realize how much you do care, how obstacles are manageable when love is real. Maybe she’ll see that you won’t disappear, you won’t cling like a leach, and you’ll always pack a surprise when she leaves town.

The only thing certain in this? If you never tell her, she won’t know. Once you tell her, only she can decide the next step. Whatever it is, you must respect it.

It’s the hardest lesson we can learn, because it makes us vulnerable. It cracks our chests right open and rips apart our hearts. Love is perhaps the most painful feeling because it makes us face every demon, every fear, every happiness. Love shies away from nothing.

And that, that is why I wear my heart on my sleeve.

Heart on Sleeve, Blackberry Curve