Closer To The Sun

 "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah!" I say it way too high pitched, not convincing, I think, but then I realize, I was, and even I believe myself. Sure. I am okay. I answered the question. So I can wander away now. I put on a mask for this crowd and even today, when I'm not feeling like putting on a mask, I still do it automatically and it makes me want to cringe. So I smile a little smile. I wish I didn't feel people. I wish I didn't know what it means to understand everyone around me all the time. I don't even want to let as many people in as I do and that's all I do. Filter for people. I am the quiet person observing. The one who sees and feels it all. I don't really understand the context. I don't know what caused the feeling(s). But, I know they exist. If I was a stronger person. Or more manipulative. Maybe it would be something I could use to my advantage. Instead, I just make people uncomfortable or mad because I know more than they wanted me to know. Just from feeling things. It's a blessing and a curse. Like all the attributes I have. I have to constantly filter so many emotions that I feel like I don't have time for my own. But, it's fine. 

Sure. It's fine. 

It's fine. It's fine. It's fine. 

I got so used to wearing my masks that I flip them back and forth so fast. So easily. I barely notice it sometimes. I notice it when I get home. I hang up my coat. I feel everything so suddenly. I lay down and try to process it all. I go into overload. I don't get up until I have to. I don't know what to do about any of it. The mask for work is worn too often. Too many times I have to pretend everyone isn't boring. That I fucking care. The mask of being okay with being pushed more and more outside of what I really find truly exhausting. There's people I like there, too. I don't hate it all. I just wish I could just stand around with my RBF and decompress. Instead I just save it for the weekend and feel like looking in the mirror is cruel. I see my pale face. wild hair. sunken eyes. I look like I'm dying. Then Monday comes again and there I am- happy as can be. Rosy cheeks and glossy eyed, and smiling for the next set of fires. 

It's fine. 

Comments