It takes more than a night to know somebody. More than a kiss to know their true colours. Who they are is but a whisper, clouded in by false pretenses and old habits. How do you ever really know someone, and when is a good time to turn the other way?
Each one of us has a story, with parts that turn raw and gory. And we are ashamed. We should not be afraid of what lurks within our emotions or what makes us feel alive. What is wrong with a little raw humanity and just doing something because you want to? It doesn’t have to mean more than the simplest of things but it also doesn’t have to mean that we don’t care. Who decides whether or not it should be complicated?
We live in a world where we are told that there are always strings attached. We don’t want to owe anyone anything.
We live in a world where one misstep tells a person that you are just like all the rest. We are afraid.
We are afraid of the things we want to trust, the things we wish we were brave enough to pull close. We are laying alone at night, thinking of that person who we think should be the last thing on our minds. We live in a world where we can’t tell that person anything that we are feeling because it is considered weak and desperate.
When will it be okay to be honest? When will it be okay to just feel a little?