My Fake Diary

What are you going to share?

You told me everything in your mind well and expressed it interestingly. You talked like there was no tomorrow for you. You laughed like there were no other sad stories that were going to be told. You cried like your problems were the hardest ones in this damn life. You were just the best storyteller I'd ever met. 

If you were the best storyteller, I might be the best listener and respond-er??

My ears did listen to every single word, but not my heart. My eyes did look at your moving eyes, your expressive face, your hands movement, but not my heart. My mouth was smiling, responding to your story, but once again, not my heart. 

I thought that I was the best honest friend in this damn life. In fact, I was the best liar, here. I might not truly interested in your life problems, but I was, honestly, trying to put an interest on you. Honestly, I just couldn't realize it. 

There were days that I really couldn't faking up my facial expressions. It was when I decided to run away from your invitation. It was when I lied having other events. It was when I said I was coming but then I did not appear in front of you, I just hide under my blanket. It was when I said a yes just to satisfy your feeling. It was when I was smiling just to cover my hurt heart. 

Did you think I was okay? The answer would be a big no. 

I wasn't okay. I was crying. I couldn't tell the truth to you, even yo myself. You didn't even try to ask my feeling, but blame me being a passive one. My broken heart had tried to open and push away the hates-inside, but none of you were ready entering the gate. Poor me. I re-closed it, then.   

But, one day I found that I had to be honest, much more than before, especially for my own poor heart.

It was. It was like being honest that I put much attention to someone, could help me to reduce my feeling at the same time. It was not wrong having that, but the reality didn't support it that way. So, I had to control my heart not to be hurted. 

Being honest that I was not brave enough to acknowledge the feeling, could help me back to the reality and not be selfish. I wouldn't force others to love me because it might be a fake one, too.

Being honest can help me to solve the problems, step by step, one by one and understand others' feelings.  It did open the missed door and showed the things that were going to be the answer. 

One thing that still being the problem was the thing that I was going to share for the first time. I didn't know. I would let my heart tell me, later. It was kept in my deepest heart, inside the unidentified box. Neatly. And dusty. 

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an original by me

2018 Feb, 3rd