I let my uncertainty overpower me. Time and again, I forgot that it is not the rejection itself but the anticipation of rejection that's the worst part. The actual pain of rejection goes away quickly, taking along with it my crush. It's just the build-up that's so terrifying, the dread of some hypothetically horrible outcome. Ironically, if one never says anything, one will never know the outcome anyway.
Rejection is worst at the moment, and then gradually fades.
Regret lasts a lifetime. I know this. Perhaps it's simply the inertia of inaction. It's so much easier to sit at my desk and talk to my roommate about some abstract hot guy in some abstract class rather than making the effort of actually knocking on his door and making it real. My fantasies are under my own control.