muse

tight lipped

Muse,

You told me that you'd like to hear my stories, especially the long ones. I still don't know if I'll ever be able to tell them to you, though.

You're the fresh start I was hoping for when I switched schools yet again. You don't know about the old habits that die hard, and you don't know that maybe they never actually died. You don't know about anything than ends in 'disorder', and you don't know about the anxiety attacks. All you know is that I smile too much and I'm not completely self assured. And that's all you need to know, most days. You treat me like I'm not 100% screwed up, because you don't know I am. I'm sure you have your suspicions, but everyone does.

The best part is that you don't need to know. You care about me without needing to understand my secrets, and you look at me in the best light I've ever had the pleasure of being inspected under. I suppose if I could only give one reason as to why I respect you the way I do, that would be it. I suppose, if I had to give one reason as to why you still don't know my story, it's because I'm so scared of change. If I had to explain my resistance to opening up, you might as well know everything anyway.

I don't want this to change,

Carrillo.