Unspoken Goodbyes

Building a wall of bricks 🐺🌬️🧱

There's a bitter, salty taste in my mouth, endless thoughts of past ghosts threaten to break my exterior. Albeit not their intent, more-so my inability to comprehend emotions and how to move past them. My first response has always been out of sight/ out of mind. An immediate defense of feigned toughness in order to protect the weak person inside.
Perhaps I am too perceptive, too sensitive to others. Their words/actions sting like knives. Yet seldomly do I say anything. To comfort myself or another is something I do not have the ability to do. When someone shows emotions I run or push another towards them who I believe will be of better service. I've always done that. Although I am usually the first to recognize their pain and empathize with them. Knowing exactly what they need because of the pain I've felt.

I don't like pity parties for myself. I feel undeserving of comfort or care from others. Though I suppose I wonder why. When did I start saying "I can do it by myself." It's a chant I've repeated from childhood. But I wonder if somewhere in my lost memories there was a time when I did ask for help, felt alone and then learned that was the best way. I recall certain times for sure. Embarrassing times.
My regret lies after speaking my mind. I curse myself for not being stronger. Not holding my tongue. Instead I am a weak person whom acts childish calling for help or divulging how an action upset them.
I am happy to live in my world of concealment. Hiding emotions, insecurities and resentment. My excuse is that it's safe. Yet people insist I tell them what's bothering me. Usually force it out of me. I suppose they fail to understand forcing/demanding bypasses the trust needed for someone to tell you their secrets in the first place. (But I won't tell them that.)
The people pleaser I am reluctantly shares and I feel weak again at the disposal of the Other person for them to do what they want with my heart again.