A silence extends between the two of you.
You know this silence, the silence of someone who doesn’t know what’s okay to say, and what isn’t.
You know your silence, too, the silence of not knowing how much is too much to tell her about what it’s really like to be you. How to be honest about yourself while also seeming attractive and datable, how to not seem like everything you’re doing is just compensating for what you lack.
Or how to explain why you sprung this on her now, why you were too afraid to bring your vision up before, why it seems unfair that you would have to warn her in the chat before she’d even met you, that you don’t want this to define her view of you without enough context about the rest of your identity, that there’s no good way to tell someone, but a thousand bad ways.