Here I am.

Sometimes I am unsure of what is worse—the notion of sadness or the fact that others know you are sad. When I was younger I was instructed to feel less, and that sadness was weakness. I didn’t like being exposed so I learned to restrain myself. I spent most of my life trying to feel less and less regardless of how pleasant or unpleasant. I constructed elaborate walls trying to prove how tough I was, and guarding me from other people. In the end you are the only one who has caught a glimpse behind my barrier without running. I bury these things inside me so you don’t have to hurt, so instead I force myself to live with it.

We all have imperfections but they are always amplified in your loneliest hour. In this hour I’ve realized how deeply my ruse can cut. It makes me believe that I am not a good person and I’m not deserving of good things. The reality is I’ve really never done anything to deserve goodness. I've never been a good daughter, a good friend, a good lover, or a good wife. There just has to be something genetically that I lack.

The shame that comes from the absence of humility can overpower you. Like the moon my egotism waxes and wanes, and once it fades I’m left with this shadow of guilt. Guilty for not being selfless. Guilty for having pride in the first place. Guilty for feeling anything ever.

I will dispose some wisdom on you from a conclusion I've drawn tonight. No matter how bad you think things are there is nothing worse than finding a spider web with your face.