I have all these people around me. These people who love me but I can never find myself to talk as openly as I would like. There is always a wall that will stand between them and me. I build this wall and refuse to climb over it or let anyone break it down. When times comes, I might let the right person break it down or I will.
I subconsciously always refrain myself from telling you all my truest feelings because I don’t want my stories to burden you or I don’t feel comfortable telling them to you no matter how much I love you. I don’t know what the problem is, all I know is that I am not comfortable with crossing that boundary.
I hate myself for that, but I also don’t. I don’t think I can remember ever having much open conversations where I have laid out all my true feelings. This does not mean I lie to you, I just haven’t laid out the full picture. I have only given you the icing, the information I think is necessary or the maximum I can give. The whole cake remains, and I don’t think I will let anyone take that entire bite.
When I try to tell you it all, something happens that makes me not tell you. These might be excuses my mind conjures up into tricking not to say to you, but I believe these excuses. I feel like I let you open up completely, but you don’t want to do it for me. Maybe this is just my mind. I don’t know.
If I ever want to explode and spill out all my secrets and the feelings I am harbouring, I think I can only do it with a stranger because they don’t know me. We both are going in with zero contextual knowledge of each other. So I will not be afraid of them judging me or having to worry about how I am burdening them because we might never see each other again after this.
We can talk and talk and promise to never meet each other again until the next time or perhaps move onto another stranger to avoid all the connection with the previous.
I guess I feel more at ease about talking my truest stories or feelings with strangers because, with the people I love, I don’t know how to. I guess I am afraid of thier thought process when speaking to me and maybe of the words they would use to reply back.
It’s too complicated. I value your love, maybe that’s why it hurts. I am afraid of things changing after I tell you about what keeps me up at night. I guess I am not sure if I want to let you in on all my vulnerabilities or my thoughts.
I can’t seem to place a finger on what it is that is keeping me from exploding my secrets to you.
Perhaps it has been in my family and nature not to reveal too much of ourselves out to the world because then that is how they will perceive us, through pity eyes. Perhaps it is the doubt of you taking advantage of my vulnerabilities.
It is never one reason. It is a whole multitude of them.
I have always made up these stories of spilling out everything, having these talks I have always wanted to have with someone. I am not sure if it will ever function in reality, considering I can’t even share the truest of my feelings with my family and best friends.
It sucks, it’s not their fault. It’s mine. I can’t seem to do it. It looks so easy, but it is so hard.
When you ask me how I have been, I give answers such as I am fine, which I actually am. It’s there will always be these buried stories and pain with me that I can never truly get out in the open. It’s just there continuing to live alongside my life.
So I keep all this inside me, and I just let it be because that is how I have done and I don’t know anything that could change it now.
So that’s why I talk to you stranger because you know me because you are me, but I can’t even be brutally honest with you too because that would crush us both.
So Readers, I place the burden on you and spill out my secrets to you because it is your concern now. I am not afraid of you because you have become my vessel upon which I can spill onto. You hold me.
You and the world are now my strangers. You will always be my strangers. I tell you a majority of the story but never the whole truth because that’s just how. I hide the truth in lines I know you will never be able to decipher because that’s just how.
So in a way, I tell the whole truth. Sometimes.