I lack the ability to keep my feelings to myself. I am honestly incapable of it. If I feel something I express it. I often try not to, as I prefer not to be such a giant open book to everyone in my life, but I never manage to succeed. I have always admired those people who are good at closing themselves off. So when I tell things, I tell them because I have to. Because it’s crawling up my insides and eating away at me. Because I feel like the person deserves to know, even if they choose not to do anything with that information.
There’s just something comforting in the fact that if I were to die tomorrow, I can honestly say that there is no one in my life who doesn’t know how I feel about them. I am not ambiguous.
But it’s not always as easy as it seems. You don’t often get the same courtesy in return. People don’t know what to do with open, naked emotion. People don’t always want to know how you feel about them.
It’s not always a gift.
Sometimes I wish I could keep things to myself.
Song of the moment: “Shake it Out — Florence & The Machine”.