My head hurts, making it difficult to write my thoughts down on here coherently. Its not often that my head hurts like this. I am thankful that I don't currently suffer migraines the way my mother does. But I will try to relay to you my thoughts as best I can.
My intentions in writing today started out with the line, "I don't say it much, but I do cry inside" but I couldn't get past that one line with the right words to express the meaning behind it, to say what is in my head. In real life its so hard for me to show emotion. I've learned to be self controlled, albeit may be overly so.
In conversation with a dear friend last night, I was asked how I was. It's a question that only a few friends of mine ever grasp that I don't always answer it. Those that can see through the answer I may give, know to dig deeper for the answer- that is if its an answer they really want. Most of the time its simply a starter to the conversation they wish to have and I know well they need a listening ear much more than I do, so I let them talk and tell me their stories, their thoughts, their fears. Very rarely do I ever say to anyone how I am. But I tried to last night.
Our conversation came around to something I hadn't really ever admitted to myself. We were talking about how much I wanted the world to care as much as I did. Of course, my friend reminded me that no one really cares, other than for the small world of people they keep close to them. But caring for strangers, that takes a different sort of thought.
So I asked, "Does that make me unique? Is there no one else who cares this much?" The reply was, there were very few who did. Even he didn't think he cared that much about the world, except for those few he chose to have around him. So I (in a mood to joke a bit to lift the serious tone) said, "Well then I guess I must have a different pysche then".
I appreciate his honesty, I truly do because more than anything I think the truth is the best gift anyone can give, though I admit seeing the truth often hurts. But I paused a bit in the conversation then and I thought, if that's true then I'm going to be one very lonely woman on this earth and I guess I'm going to have to get used to that, after I thought it I said to him, "You know I guess I'm a paradox of sorts. I love humanity with all I have, but I can't stand to be around a lot people."
I think that last sentence I said is because I love what humans were born to be and I hate the fact that we, many times over, disown ourselves. And that I think, is why I cry inside.