As I ponder over this question, My overly pragmatic soul gives me rationales: My heart is full of both the good and the bad but doesn’t feel heavy.. My eyes are heavy but don’t feel full… I want to cry but I feel too cold to do that.
I often lay down thinking of all the things I wish I could say out loud.. and then I go about thinking about all the things wrong when I find creaks of time in my 10000 daily distractions to survive.
Maybe I think crying is strength and I have no more of it left. Maybe I can’t bring myself to cry anymore because I have too many questions and a meager few reasons to find one to cry about.
“ what’s so wrong?” you might ask like you care. That’s the crux of all problems. I don’t know what is. All I have is a list of maybes. A list I compile ahead to make slight sense of what the answer can possibly be.
Maybe I am jealous. Of people who get everything by doing nothing. They aren’t necessarily bad people or people I envy. In fact these people — some of them are very dear to me but this is one of the few questions I do wonder about myself.
Maybe I question giving. Why should I be the one who always gives? and receives nothing in return?
Maybe I question my honesty. Why don’t I appreciate things that are there? How am I never overwhelmed? or experience a pure kind of happiness? does that even exist?
Maybe I question my flexibility about why I am content with the most basic efforts Which are all I get. This seems like a rant but I contradict myself. because I know for a fact that I have people who love me like no other. I do.
Again I am in a loop because maybe I question if they ever understand me properly but again I question that maybe those invisible boundaries I keep drawing are too unrealistic for somebody to cross.
It’s not that I do not feel happy. I do. I do feel grateful. I do feel happy at times. I am honestly content which makes me question it
Maybe I feel that I am the problem. You see that by now don’t you? It is me who is used to being content. there’s me being happy and there’s me who wants to feel so much more.
Maybe I’ve shut too many parts of me in making people comfortable that opening up a few makes all hell break lose. I mean Maybe I feel people don't even give up anything be who they are and get people for that outright.
Don’t get me wrong there’s no act here. There’s no force. I do everything by heart. But am I not human too? maybe some acknowledgments; maybe a moment or two to make me feel my feelings can be accepted as valid too?
But as always, in the end, I always think about how fickle I must be to be in multiple emotions at the same time. I am happy and sad. Social and Shy. Loved but ignored. Maybe the proportions vary in the last one but you get the point don’t you?
Disclaimer: Exaggerated for fictional purposes.
