I know how I must look to you turned in and tightly closed like a bud. You look at my folded arms and think that my heart is likewise closed and inaccessible. You see me furrowing my brows and believe that I do not see truth and beauty like those of you who go around with wide eyes and wider smiles.
When I say no, you imagine that I don’t know how to enjoy life. You shake your head and tell me that I need to learn how to live.
With all due respect Mr. Extrovert, I must tell you that you are mistaken.
I close the door so that I can open my mind. I fold my arms so that you don’t tear my tender, warm, and passionately beating heart straight from my chest. I say no to many things – not because I don’t know how to live – but because I’ve discovered a fountain of life that I need to get back to lest it dry up while I’m away.
So, please, don’t look at me with pity. filled eyes. Don’t tell me I need to “open up’, or, ‘loosen up’, or be more like you. And please stop comparing your insides with my outside.
There is a lot more to me than what you see. Can you say the same for yourself?