I might never know why I am so scared of feelings. I could attribute it to two fairly absentee parents. One emotionally and one physically. I could attribute it to the first boyfriend I ever had who took everything that I was willing to give him and then crushed it all right in front of me. Hell, I could even blame it on a chemical imbalance. The truth is though, it just is what it is. I am scared to say anything unless I can do it behind some sort of mask.

The good thing about this is that, the people that I trust, will never have any doubt that I trust them. They will be the ones who get to mail the letter. Who get to hear me rant and rave about not being brave enough. They will be the ones who will reassure me when I think that, by opening up for once, I might be making the biggest mistake of my life. And then, if and when it turns out to be so, they will be the ones who will inevitably help me pick up the scattered remains of my ego.

I’ve always taken pride in the fact that I am blunt and that I am not afraid to say what I want. But the truth is, these qualities only apply when I really don’t have anything invested. I’ve learned a lot about myself and I am not afraid to admit that I suck at the emotional shit. (The fact that I just said “emotional shit” should exhibit this quite nicely.) The reality of this can be painful at times. Ice pick painful. But I do also know that the rewards can be sweeter than I could ever imagine.

The secret that lies beneath the surface though, is that I feel things more deeply than anyone would suspect. Probably more than anyone will ever know, which is why I hold people so close. Maybe that makes me weak. But I like to think that helping to lift others up, lifts me up as well.

Well, it is as good as mailed. LBG doesn’t fuck around. I have to go to the store for liquor and cigarettes now.