Like right now. I'm emotionally (and physically) withdrawing from everyone I know and love, even as I meet them and talk to them and pretend that things are the same, because I'm scared of the moment when I'll have to say goodbye. I may not even let myself be in touch with any of these people anymore, because I'd prefer to retreat to a world where they are no longer all-important, where their absence cannot be felt. If they're not there, I'll convince myself I don't need them, or want them, or miss them, and therefore I'm not unhappy that they're gone. I can feel myself put up walls, after walls, between people who once made up my world simply because I know that this world is soon to end. If you ask me, that's one of the most cowardly things a person can do. I'm flattered, truly, when I'm admired for my bravery. But the truth is, I wish I wasn't. Because to be admired for being something I'm not makes me come face to face with my very-worst fear. That I am nothing but a fake.
May 31, 2009
I find it vaguely uncomfortable, yet flattering (ofcourse), when people call me 'brave' and tell me how much they admire me (or some such). It feels good naturally (because let's face it, who among us does not covet admiration?) but accepting the compliment at face value seems dishonest. Because I'm not brave. And not particularly worthy of admiration. I've dealt with my share of life's problems, and even though on some days it seems like I carry the burdens of the entire world on my shoulders, I have enough sense to know that I'm not alone in my misery, and that there are many more in this world who are worse off than me. Often, when I'm at my 'bravest', I'm putting on yet another mask firmly in place to hide my fears. I have carefully cultivated many masks, all designed to shield my reality from the world at large.