“Why are you like that?” Like what?
“Are you okay?” Do I have to be okay?
“What happened?” So what?
“Is there something wrong?” Must there be?
“What is it this time?” Care to take a guess?
I have nothing against people caring, and though I may have an issue about being taken cared of, still sometimes I wish I could care less about having to explain my life to everyone.
At times nothing has to be wrong or out of place, but I just cannot be the person everyone expects me to be, even the person I expect myself to be, all the time. Times of identity crisis happen, but the moments of confusion are not here to stay. Soon enough, the person I truly am creeps back to my old self, and no one would even seem to notice. Suddenly, I am the same person, and I do not know whether to be glad or scared.
You do not have to have me all figured out. You do not even have to put me back together if you think I am broken.
I am neither a jigsaw nor a Lego toy.
No one has the obligation to fix me. Thank you for taking a second glance at my tarnished bubble but this handyman tendency is rather too kind. The desire to make things better for me is a bit too much, because I am not made of bolts and nuts. I am just a normal body that gets tired of carrying around a weary soul and a vitiated mind.
So allow me to recondition my strength, restore my inner peace and revamp my thoughts. I think I owe self-care to myself and kindess to others that I must constantly work out, walking a road all to myself, and loitering in my personal space. I am the kind of person who gets consumed by existence and feels indebted having intimate conversations with myself. I can best do this when I can un-person me from time to time.
Allow me to breathe.
Photo: blog.freepeople.com
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