There’s a big part of me that wants to hide away from the world. I’ve thought about it a lot. I’d live in a small apartment with everything I’d need; lots of blankets and stuffed animals to keep me company, lots of big shirts to stay comfy, and a completely full fridge with enough chocolate milk to comfort me for a lifetime.
Strangely, it’s a part of me I can’t deny, yet a part of me I want to show to the world. I want people to know I’m a hidey sort of person. I want everyone to know that I yearn for that sort of solitude and that I could live with it for a long time.
But there’s another part of me, a big part of me (perhaps a much bigger part) that wants everyone to know that I know there’s so much more to do in a lifetime than sit in an apartment huddled in blankets. I want everyone to know that I know that there’s so much to learn, and I want everyone to know that I want to learn it. I want to see everything and experience everything and tell everyone about it so maybe they’ll want to experience everything to.
I wake up every morning wanting to write about something. “I want to show everyone something new. I want to share my joy and my love with everyone.” I want to write about my unicorn socks, and my pink blankets, and my delicious breakfast and how much I love love.
I want to tell everyone about how great it is to care about something. How amazing it is to open your heart out and let someone have the opportunity to feel the love you’re able to give them.
But I have an issue with people not taking it. I can offer but I can’t make someone love socks or blankets or breakfast the way I do. I can only offer to share it with them. And it hurts to extend my love and my heart out there, but no one reaches out and takes it.
What hurts more is that some people don’t want to take it. They don’t want to open their mind up and take the risk and accept the joy I want to share with the world. They don’t want to see how amazing I know I can be. They don’t want to know how I could love them with everything I’ve got, and they don’t want to know how wonderful it is to open your heart to someone.
But what hurts the most is that sometimes I have to take my heart back. Sometimes I have to stop offering, because people don’t want it, and it hurts to leave it out like that. What hurts the most is that sometimes I have to be that hidey person, the one who hides her joy about the world; the person who doesn’t write about pink and socks and houses and how wonderful it is to have feelings.
It hurts the most to keep the love you have inside.