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Who is the one person that you would really like to know what they are thinking (as far as how they feel about you), and why?
They don't tell us what they're thinking. We don't tell them what we are thinking. It's never really one-sided, but a mutual sort of mire we all have to wade through, isn't it? Even if it's not what we are holding back, but what we are holding in. We can be truthful all the time, or have truthful moments, or filter it all through to deliver the clearest message possible. Everyone thinks one or the other is more important. Everyone has one that fits their life better. But that's just what we want to share. The thoughts that we're willing to let go of, to risk hitting air and dealing with the reaction that comes after. Because there will always be a reaction of some kind.
And then there is what we hold in. The parts that we don't share. Maybe it is what we are thinking, though just as often it can what we are afraid to think. There's just as many threads that we don't want to follow through to their conclusion, and that we don't want to see the end of. Maybe because it's just that, and end. Maybe because we won't like what we find either. And maybe, just maybe, it is because we would never consider letting things go at all.
That they were always be be held in, and held close, and held deep.
The ones that are never to be shared at all. Our thoughts, and not anoyone elses. Not to be shared, or seen, and certainly not to be burdened with. I know I've done it. Not told someone what I felt about them, about what I was thinking.
And what was kept leads right into the rest. To where this is really going. Because there were things, I think, I never really intended to share, and places I never wanted to revisit again even if I wouldn't wish them away either. And now she has them.
Illyria.
Now she has them and I'm a little lost. All those thoughts hitting air, now shared between two people and I think I am waiting for the reaction still. What she thinks about all of them, and me. Are they as fractured for her as they were for me because of the mere being of what they are? Or because of what I now understand happened? It can't change her opinion of me, I guess, because there isn't a before or after to compare to.
Except how I saw myself. Except what I still see sometimes. Her opinions, and mine. She can see both, the inside and the out, and I guess I get caught up in wondering just what the picture looks like.
And what she thinks of it.
They don't tell us what they're thinking. We don't tell them what we are thinking. It's never really one-sided, but a mutual sort of mire we all have to wade through, isn't it? Even if it's not what we are holding back, but what we are holding in. We can be truthful all the time, or have truthful moments, or filter it all through to deliver the clearest message possible. Everyone thinks one or the other is more important. Everyone has one that fits their life better. But that's just what we want to share. The thoughts that we're willing to let go of, to risk hitting air and dealing with the reaction that comes after. Because there will always be a reaction of some kind.
And then there is what we hold in. The parts that we don't share. Maybe it is what we are thinking, though just as often it can what we are afraid to think. There's just as many threads that we don't want to follow through to their conclusion, and that we don't want to see the end of. Maybe because it's just that, and end. Maybe because we won't like what we find either. And maybe, just maybe, it is because we would never consider letting things go at all.
That they were always be be held in, and held close, and held deep.
The ones that are never to be shared at all. Our thoughts, and not anoyone elses. Not to be shared, or seen, and certainly not to be burdened with. I know I've done it. Not told someone what I felt about them, about what I was thinking.
And what was kept leads right into the rest. To where this is really going. Because there were things, I think, I never really intended to share, and places I never wanted to revisit again even if I wouldn't wish them away either. And now she has them.
Illyria.
Now she has them and I'm a little lost. All those thoughts hitting air, now shared between two people and I think I am waiting for the reaction still. What she thinks about all of them, and me. Are they as fractured for her as they were for me because of the mere being of what they are? Or because of what I now understand happened? It can't change her opinion of me, I guess, because there isn't a before or after to compare to.
Except how I saw myself. Except what I still see sometimes. Her opinions, and mine. She can see both, the inside and the out, and I guess I get caught up in wondering just what the picture looks like.
And what she thinks of it.
