If I ever push you away, if I ever let go of my grip, I don’t really mean to and I don’t really want to, I am just terrified to get too close to you in case you ever leave. When I tell you I don’t want to talk about it I do, I am just looking for the right words give me a minute, and if I can tell you; I will. I am a struggling mix of someone who craves anonymity and popularity at the same time. At the moment, I am working on the ratio. I want to be in that crowded room with you and laugh with everyone, but space is good, too. When I get really quiet sometimes it is only because I have too much to say I have thought of too many things to tell you all at once and I don’t know what to say first. When I put up walls from people, from you, it is not to keep everyone out but to see who cares enough to knock them down. I am a mass of contradictions and my head is a complicated pile of thoughts, and fears, and cravings, and dreams, and this tangled up nostalgia for the past and, somehow, the future. I am flawed and I am human and I am broken and I am trying. I am one person and I am two hands and I am one heart and I love you and I am so glad and so thankful that you are here even if I don’t always show it and even if you can’t always feel it.
