I find that all the things you avoid thinking about and all the painful feelings that you desperately try to bury overwhelm you when youapos;re absolutely certain that there is no one to see your tears fall, and no human noise to muffle the cries that always live in your chest.
When youapos;re hiding from yourself, there are few enemies more terrible than silence and an empty house. Both allow contemplation to consume the mind and suddenly you canapos;t stop thinking about what hurts so much that you fill the silence with audible sobs.
You know... Dramatic changes in a person from one year to the next are rarely ever complete. Theyapos;ve simply allowed a once hidden aspect of themselves to surface and bury the one that hurt them. Which can be great A shy people-pleaser gets a blank slate and takes the opportunity to become the outspoken extrovert that hid within. Fabulous
Except... The now recessive aspect doesnapos;t really disappear but instead becomes much more selective in who/what it allows to cause you pain. Now itapos;s not the barbs of everyone elseapos;s words and actions that hurt anymore but just the ones dished out by the people closest to your heart. And, of course, in narrowing the scope youapos;ve also expanded the effect. These arenapos;t the people that can hurt you a little...
They are the ones that can hurt you so much you feel like they have your heart in a vice.
- Family
- Best Friends
- Lovers
And what is probably the most ridiculously absurd thing about all of this is that they often donapos;t even know their effect. These people love you They donapos;t seek to cause you pain...
Youapos;re really causing it to yourself on their behalf. Things theyapos;ve said that were spoken in simple conversation but cut so deep. Things that were done casually or without thought that slice at you. Saying that that barbs hit aloud sounds so petty, so unreasonable, so stupid that you just donapos;t say anything at all.
Understanding is a thing of the mind. Only the mind and reason are accommodating. The heart is not reasonable, it knows nothing of reason. The heart aches and cries, and wails. And it does so deep in a chest as to never be heard by the cause of itapos;s wounds. Because in its painapos;s cause is also itapos;s most euphoric joy.
Sorry guys. Iapos;m feeling a melancholy tonight.
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