JUST TELL HIM

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His "I love you" rings in my ears and I think about it obsessively.
That and my "TELL HIM YOU LOVE HIM TOO, OSCAR, TELL HIM NOW, TELL HIM, FOR FUCKING'S SAKE!" which never translated into words.
I was silent, silent as an idiot. Or rather, I complimented him on his ability to express what he thinks, are you kidding me?
How retarded am I? To an "I love you" you respond with another "I love you too," I know full well that's how it's done!
Not me, though. My mouth remained sealed and I never said I love him too. I wasn't capable of it. Pathetic imbecile.
Now he's probably burying himself, right after I told him not to because of all the things that aren't going the way he thinks they should. He exposes himself spontaneously and certainly without any plan, and what do I do?
I tell him it's that part of him I envy so much, the one that can express what he feels without any problems.
But is that even possible?
And the 'I love you too, Lando'?
I'm an asshole!
Now he's going to feel worse than ever. He doesn't tell me and pretends everything's fine, but he's capable of pretending like a nurse to curse, damn it.
I know he's thinking about it like a maniac and that he's suffering.
He's already full of complexes, I didn't even need to add to them.
Now I have to find the right way to respond and tell him that I love him too, but it's not easy because that was the perfect moment. Now everything will be unnatural.
Especially if I write it to him. No, you don't write these things. Children write these things to each other via text message, I wish I could be a little grown up at least about this. I think it's important to tell him 'I love you too'.
Because yes, it's not that I doubt it. I know I love him too. I've loved him long before he realized it.
But I thought it would be easy to tell him, especially in response to him, but instead my mouth tightened completely, my tongue knotted and I couldn't say anything at all.
What a shame.
Now I know how he’s feeling and it burns me to be the cause.
We talk to each other as if nothing had happened, as if he wasn't hurt, as if this huge elephant didn't exist. I've told him part of it.
I can't express myself the way he does, he knows, but I still love him and I want him to know it, especially now that he's blurted it out so suddenly.
But the days go by and I can't find a way to throw myself and tell him.
Lando looks at me with those wonderful, expressive eyes of his and it seems like he's constantly apologizing for something. Damn, you don't have to apologize, my love.
I'm the flawed one and I always have been.
I've never been able to express my feelings well, ever. Sometimes I even thought I didn't feel anything. Until he came along shattering all my beliefs and showing me that I'm normal too. I feel, I absolutely do, but I don't express it like others.
It started with excitement and desire and then transformed into feeling and emotion. Now I know it's love, I have no doubts, because when he's sad I'd give him everything I have, because I couldn't care less about titles, competitions, or whatever if he's sad and doesn't smile.
And I know this is love.
But it's always been this way for me.
While inside I felt great happiness for the good things that happened to me, on the outside I just smiled with a little composure and didn't even jump for joy. Everything seemed normal, as if he'd barely touched me. But no, I was always happy, but it's like I have a block. I can't get things out. I just can't do it and even though I never cared much until now, now I hate it. I hate it like crazy, this side of me. Why the hell do I have to be like this? How fucking stupid do I have to be?
Maybe what they say about me is true. I'm autistic. Or at least a little.
Am I? I've never given it much thought, even though I was, it never stopped me from achieving my most important goals, but now it's different. Now, because of this peculiar aspect of mine, I risk losing Lando and even if that weren't the case, I've definitely made him unhappy and the thought of him being that, devastates me. He shouldn't be sad because of me, he's had enough of that on his own, I don't want to be a burden, what we have shouldn't be a cause for sadness.

The race is coming and I still haven't managed to tell him anything. I'm just here trying to figure out how to do it and I can't.
It seems silly, I realize. It makes no sense. It's a fucking 'I love you,' people don't care about these things anymore. I'm getting paranoid about nothing.
But as soon as we see each other in the morning, after a pathetic excuse for not sleeping together the night before the race, like it would have been better to rest well this time, I immediately realize that it's as if what was once a baby elephant is now a huge adult and we have to do something or it'll grow even bigger and devastate us.
We meet, we greet each other with the usual enthusiasm, a kiss and then smiles and jokes, but there's no authenticity, no real emotion. It's more of a duty.
We didn't sleep together last night. The first pre-race night since we got together.
God, it's so obvious I'm avoiding him because I don't know how to tell him I love him back!
Yet I avoid him because of this and he avoids me because he can't stand the fact that I haven't told him yet. But since he understands my problem just as I understand his, he doesn't want to burden me.
He knows it's not his fault, that it's not that I don't love him, I just don't know how to say it. That what everyone else thinks is bullshit, isn't bullshit for me. Just as it's not easy for him to stay focused throughout a race.
I'm sorry, my love, I don't want to see that veil in your beautiful hazel eyes. I don't want it. It shouldn't be there. Because you're so wonderful in your spontaneity that I can see from a mile away that you're smiling so you don’t cry and that you're hurting because of my disability. Because that's what it seems to me to be, right now.
But he tries not to burden me because he knows, he knows exactly what it is and he's not mad at me. He just can't help but feel bad about it.
God, I'm so bad. Something went really wrong with me when I was born.

Lando is strange all day, every moment we spend together is forced fun and when he's like that you can tell right away, because he's a wonderful open book.
Honestly I'm not even surprised that he didn't do well yesterday, nor that today in the race what everyone was curious to see between us, happened.
Lando touches me and we almost end up off the track, but luckily I stay inside and he doesn't penalize me in any way. The car doesn't suffer any damage and I still reach the podium, as I was already doing. Meanwhile he immediately drops positions, receiving an additional penalty because the maneuver was his fault and it wasn't just a simple racing contact.
People say 'the usual Lando.' For me that definition is different, it has another meaning.
While it's happening, I realize all the implications that could be there. In an instant, as I cross the finish line after hearing my team on the pit wall congratulate me and tell me about Lando, I realize better than anyone else what's going to happen with him.
It's like digging a hole from the inside. You'll never get out if you dig it from the inside, because when it's deep and you're surrounded by walls of earth, you won't be able to get out and you'll be trapped there.
Lando is hurting from my missed 'I love you,' and I haven't been able to make him feel better. On top of that, this contact with me which penalizes him further, it's completely demolishing him.
I only think about him and how he's feeling, but our different commitments keep us apart as soon as we get out of the cars. We can't even see each other, even though I carry on with my usual duties and manage to do everything as if nothing had happened.
As I do this and calmly answer the journalists' questions, I realize I truly have a huge problem. Am I really autistic?
Am I like this? It's as if this contact with Lando hasn't done anything to me at all. How is that possible? We had an accident. Sure, there were no problems for me, but from the way I'm reacting, it seems like nothing happened.
As I speak answering yet another question in front of the media and the cameras filming me, I sense a familiar presence nearby and before I can focus, I find a hand unmistakably touching my ass, but it's light and shy, not like usual. I realize it's him because no one else in the world would touch my ass in front of everyone.
As soon as I turn around and see it's Lando, my heart stops and for a moment, emotion takes over.
It's him and he's talking to me. What is he saying? What is he feeling? What's that face? Is he mad at me? All this in an instant that makes me go crazy, I don't understand a thing.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
But he immediately apologizes squeezing my hand. He has the most worried and mortified eyes in the world and he speaks without having to use words.
God, he's so good at it.
He takes full blame for what happened, not that he has a choice. It's true that it was his fault, but he wasn't obligated to apologize. Not everyone does, even when they're clearly at fault.
I was worried he wouldn't admit it and that this would become a huge watershed in our relationship.
But as soon as he can, he lets me know, with his look, that he's a scared puppy at the idea of ​​losing me and that he doesn't want what happened to Lewis and Rosberg to happen to us, as so many have been repeating these days, savoring the clash between us in anticipation.
Fuck everybody.
But I couldn't wait to catch him so I could finally tell him: - It’s all right, buddy, my race wasn't ruined, I still finished on the podium, so it's okay.
As soon as I say it, unable to do more, he finds immediate relief.
I love you, Lando. I love you too. I LOVE YOU!
That's what I want to tell you, do you hear it? Do you understand? But my mouth remains sealed and we return to our interviews, me well composed and calm as ever, he probably still with his tail between his legs and the terror that it's over between us.

I have to tell him, I absolutely have to tell him.
I love you Lando.
I love you too.
I have to.
Come on, Oscar, find him and tell him. It doesn't matter how or when. Just do it. You just can't wait any longer.
It doesn't matter how or when, it doesn't matter if it's difficult. I've had the chance to process it, I'm no longer caught off guard, I've overcome that phase. I've had the chance to realize, understand and clear my mind.
I know what I have to do. I know what I want to do. I know what I want to say and it's easy.
I love you.
Even if in the end it's difficult for me because I've never told anyone and I've always thought that certain things were more of an idea than a reality, it doesn't matter.
Now I have no more doubts, I love him and I have to tell him. It doesn't matter how.
It's important that he knows, he needs it, he desperately needs it.
Where are you, Lando? Where?
We have commitments now, interviews, briefings, a lot of things. Don't run away feeling ashamed.
You gave me those tender, timid, desperate apologies in front of everyone and ran away.
Come here, come to me, let me find you so I can tell you I love you.
Come, please, come.
I move around the paddock doing everything that needs to be done, always with him in mind and this I love you on the tip of my tongue, the only thing that's on my mind.
Then finally, on the way to the McLaren motorhome and the final post-race briefing, a short, familiar figure appears just ahead of me.
The curls, the hunched shoulders, the heavy and dragging walk, almost as if he wanted to be anywhere but here.
It's him.
My heart begins to pound in my chest, while the realization that it's finally my moment hits me like a huge wave.
I can't breathe, but without thinking for a second, and before my courage escapes me again, I run to catch him. We cross the threshold of our motorhome together, where the others are waiting for the briefing. As soon as we're inside, I put a hand around his waist, light and swift, and lean toward him like a gust of wind, whispering softly in his ear: - I love you too, by the way.
Lando immediately tenses, jumping to his feet and freezing. I step past him and leave him. As I do so, I cast him a meaningful glance winking at him. He has a dazed, shocked expression, as if I'd given him a violent electric shock. I walk on pretending nothing happened, as if I'd told him we'd go home together later, something normal and nothing special. I enter the meeting room before him and after a few moments he joins me, still with that damned expressive, gorgeous face.
His eyes wide open, emotion in his eyes and no longer the mortified and depressed look he had just two seconds ago.
We exchange another quick knowing glance. There's no point in talking about it, even though we'll do it later anyway. But I've told him the important thing and everything's fine.
Now I feel lighter than I've ever felt; the knowledge that I've finally done something absolutely right, makes me sit back more comfortably. I watch him do the same, still embarrassed and tenderly awkward, in a way you'd never expect.
I don't think they ever told him they love him, but now that will change. I'll repeat it to him every second to make him understand that it's true and I hope this will help him feel better, to believe in himself more and not live obsessed with making mistakes or not being good enough.
It'll be fine, I'll take care of your happiness.
The briefing begins and we haven't really spoken as we should have, but it's no use because we've said what matters and when the others ask us if everything's okay between us, referring to the accident on the runway, we both nod looking at each other with big smiles.
- Yes, yes, we just cleared things up before we went in. - I say quickly and calmly.
- Yes, everything's fine. - Lando says in turn.
- Yes, everything's great.
And it really is.