Why do I always feel so empty..
maybe that's not the right word, Unfulfilled-maybe? Dissatisfied.Alone..... I just wanna be heard honestly. I want to be able to converse with someone besides the voice in my head that's telling me to shut up because we're not making any sense and we sound stupid whenever we speak or try to convey our emotions in a somewhat healthy way. All it ever says is , they'll never get it. Sometimes I swear it feels as though my mind is running at 100miles per minute and my mouth is racing to catch up while my heart is fighting to figure out the right way to say something so I don't offend the receiver.
Forming a bond means tearing down the walls that my mind is trying to break down as my heart continues to build brick by brick. And we can't take it.
See, He's a fragile thing; my heart. Trembling at the slightest acknowledgment of affection, silently begging to be filled with just an ounce of what my mind tells it we don't need.
The two are at constant war with each other and then there's me; allowing the two to bicker amongst themselves until it becomes too overwhelming and I just override their decisions by walking away before we cause each other any more stress.
We over analyze everything. Does Sure mean yes or no, should we go right or left, are the results of our decisions going to have a lasting impact on us and are they going to be positive?
Playing it safe has always served us sufficiently. We know what the outcome will be and shape our actions for a scenario to play out accordingly, but why do I still feel... inadequate? Is it because I fear I'm not deserving of positive outcomes so I force myself to stop walking before I can ever start a jog?
I've never really felt heard, like the person I'm speaking to hears all of us fighting to form one voice. I hate when people say they understand when they haven't watched the cogs in my brain twist and turn and get off kilter when we are faced with an unknown opponent.
Why do we keep everyone at arm's length when we know nothing would make me happier than to envelope them into our atmosphere?
Why are we so afraid to be heard?
