100 Questions in I'm New Here

Why do I feel things. So intensely. I wish I didn’t feel things like this.

I sit and wonder what the hell is going on inside my own head.

The funny thing is, sometimes I can figure me out. It’s just the “me” I’ve figured out doesn’t fit into most peoples’ perspectives. So I hide me. And I change me. And I try to not feel, and be what they want instead. And I don’t talk about the things that are important. Because the things that are important to me aren’t important to you, apparently.

Someone says, “I care about you so much. I love you.”

But then you try to explain what’s important, and they shut you down. They don’t understand you. They don’t do it maliciously (I don’t think?) They do it because they actually just don’t get it. They don’t get why you ask 2340909349 questions because you genuinely want to know; you want to start a conversation. You want to connect and get to know them on a different level. To them, it’s an interview. They don’t get that this is something you are doing to open up the line of communication. I want to know important things about you. I want you to tell me about your thoughts and experiences. I want to know the mundane about you. I want to know your regrets, your past, your secrets. And I want to keep those things safe. I want you.

And selfishly, I want you to care about my thoughts and experiences. I want you to ask me questions. I want you to dig in and see what makes me tick and what makes me me. I want you to wonder how I am the way I am. I want you to make me think about the random, the mundane, the important.

But you didn’t. You asked me one question. The only reason you did was because you didn’t have your own answer at the ready. So you deflected.

The rest of the 99 questions weren’t reciprocated. So you don’t need to know; you don’t care to ask. You see this as homework – as something you have to complete. You see no deeper meaning. You see no point in asking the same of me. Why in the world wouldn’t you care to ask? Why wouldn’t you jump at the opportunity to burrow into the mind of the person you claim to love?

I am entirely overthinking. At the same token, this is the overthinking me that I am. This is the overthinking me in my head that you don’t want to deal with. And that I’m ashamed of, even though I know it’s me and I know I won’t change. So I’ll try again to hide it. I’ll pretend I don’t care. I’ll change my behaviors and I won’t ask again. Bury it all over again, and try not to let it resurface. Maybe then you’ll want me.

Am I playing the victim as usual? Am I purposefully/accidentally writing my own fate here? I have to say, I don’t know. I’m trying not to, but you are making it more and more difficult by not acknowledging what I need. And even when it is acknowledged, nothing changes. So maybe this is just the me that you (or anyone) doesn’t want. Maybe this is just the reality of my personality. And I’m torn between feeling like that’s okay, and that’s also something i need to systematically fix.

Fix, fix, fix. Always working on fixing myself. But while I’m doing so, am I losing myself a little too? If I fix myself for someone else, does it count?

I wish I could be as strong as a sequoia. Instead I’m just a shrub that may or may not survive the next fire.