In Progress…


I sat in the heated leather seat as I felt the crisp winter wind swiftly blow in my face. I exhale the smoke from my pipe and reflect on my life and my personality as I had done every day since I’d turned 20. 20 felt like a reward, like I had kept myself in a cage for 19 years of my life. I felt free. Free to be myself and pursue opportunities I had always dreamed of. I’m 21 now and I can’t begin to express how much that feeling has elevated me to a level I never even knew existed.

I’ve always been very passionate about my opinions and how I express myself. This has always been a fact about me. The only thing that’s changed is how openly I do this. As a kid, I had been very sure of myself, as most kids are. I knew what I wanted to do at all times, I never thought twice about what I would wear, I knew who my friends were and who they weren’t and I was very specific about my social circle. I was outspoken and quick to tell anyone who asked about my personal opinions and life. After a certain point in my life, this all changed. I remember being told, “You know don’t have to share everything with everyone, some things should not be shared.” So as a dramatic ass kid/scorpio rising, I interpreted this as; people are the enemy and information about you is their weapon. It wasn’t until recently in my life that I realized I had formed this notion in my mind.

The only reason I realized this information was because of a discussion I had with a new friend who I had barely known. We talked conspiracy theories, human rights and the lack of love in the world. As expected, the conversation progressed into my least favourite topic…relationships. I’ve been asked what happened with my exes too many times to count but this time the question gained meaning. “Honestly, we just didn’t work out, we weren’t compatible.” I replied monotonously. “Is this how we’re doing this? I can’t tell you everything I want to tell you if you can’t tell me everything” he said with a look that made me question why I never tell my truth. “Well…” I paused. “The truth is that we started out completely in love with each other and it faded into a power struggle, filled with possessive and controlling energy. I felt drained, he only listened to my feelings when I was crying or yelling and we had conflicting ways of dealing with our emotions.” I took a deep breath after flooding the conversation with my word vomit. I felt completely vulnerable to the point where I felt a lump in my throat. He looked at me with sympathy and broke down crying. He told me a story of a girl whose heart he’d broken. I advised him to call her and apologize. It seemed obvious to me he was deeply sorry for treating her the way he had. “I can’t” he said as he looked away. “Well, why not?” I questioned, genuinely interested. “I just can’t.” We sat in silence for a few moments and this was the first time it had come together.

I was baffled at how he had truly believed he couldn’t contact her. Nothing was stopping him, he had her phone number, all he had to do was dial the number or type the text message. I went home and reflected deeper on this conversation. I wondered if anyone was stopping themselves from talking to me. I had wondered if the people who had hurt me in my life had wanted to apologize but felt they couldn’t. And then I flipped the conversation back to myself. I always tell people I’m close to how I’m feeling but it never goes farther than my close friends and family. I need to share my truth. In order for the majority to think something is okay, someone has to say it. I want to encourage as many people as possible to share their truth in whatever way that may be.

I’ve thought about creating a blog of my journals for years now. But only now, as I stare into the glistening black water have I realized what I need to do. There are 7 billion humans on this planet. I’m not sure how many we’re capable of communicating with in one life time but I want to interact with as many as possible. My general disinterest in people stemmed from my belief that people were like jars and you could read the label but it’s not easy to open. Why can’t we be open jars? I have nothing bad to say so who can use my words against me? Nobody.

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