Your dread to upset her makes you insecure.
But love, any love, when sincere and pure,
It can be clumsy, futile, get funny results.
It’s never, just never a tool of insults.

Your silence, my friend, is a horrible vice
For which you may pay an unbearable price.
Nothing so surely calls for her bitterness
Like what she reads as your indifference.

The idea is borrowed from Lope de Vega – a playwright and poet of Spanish Renaissance:

One cannot insult by love,
Whoever is the one who dreams about happiness.
We are offended by indefference.