A confession of sorts

Believe me when I say I know what it’s like to need someone, maybe no one in particular, just someone who cares, who will listen, who can be there for just a few minutes. What I don’t know, though is how to open up and how to get past to my fear. I want to share these things, my secrets, that is, with people in my life but when I find myself in a one on one situation with someone that I trust or in a time of crisis I can never pluck up the courage or find the right words to start. I know what goes on in these people’s lives and I feel like my secrets would be too much of a burden, one that the shouldn’t have to carry as well. I make constant excuses for my fear and I realize that they are just that, excuses and nothing more. I know that holding everything in isn’t healthy, it has made me sick more times than I can count, yet lo and behold every single time I want to share something, I just cannot. I don’t want people knowing more than what I feel is safe. I never share everything with anyone except Mary, Mary knows almost everything but I don’t see her until the tenth and I’m having a rough week, there’s a lot going on in my head and I just want someone I’m comfortable with to talk to but that’s more to ask than you’d think. I’m comfortable enough with a total of two people to share almost everything with and they’re just not around and I don’t want to call them, I just don’t do that, I always feel like my problems are stupid when I say them over the phone, I’ve done it in the past and felt completely silly, I need to do these things in person but no one is ever around, especially not the people I need.

Sometimes, I almost feel like everything would just be easier if my friends knew about this blog or followed it or something, because I never talk about anything serious, basically ever, because I don’t like people worrying about me. People knowing about this means they’d get closer to knowing what goes on in my heart and in my head, maybe not all of it but they’d at least know that I was hurting and that there was something going one behind, well everything I say, then again, they’d be worried and I hate that.