I am many people. We all are. It depends on where and who we are with. Me as a professional. Me as a member of a family. Me as a friend. Me in love. Many, many mes.
As a survival mechanism I have grown to be a little detatched, even cold at times with the people with whom I was supposed to have the closest bond. The people that should - in theory - allow me to be myself. But no. I have walls and fences. I need to.
As the years went by I was often terrified that that was the true me. That I was broken beyond repair and could never be the loving person I knew was somewhere inside. Was the coldness crystalizing inside of me, making me slightly but permanently bitter? Fear and many questions.
Now I am happy. Because (again) as Elphaba sings, I'm not that girl. I just have another me that doesn't exactly define me as a whole, only my history with a certain group of people. And that double personality was born for a reason, it serves a purpose, and so I cannot feel guilty for its existence. Instead I should (and do) feel happy, for I am many, many other things.
And I can love. Wholeheartedly and... effortlessly.
1 comment:
grande introspecção..não penses de mais q isso faz mal!
já estudaste hoje? ai ai
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