DILEMMA
I am afraid.
Of being an open book;
An open book whose pages every Tom, dick and harry can have access to.
To read.
A book each passerby can empathize with at each turn.
In the mountains and in the steep valleys, even in the meadows in between.
I am afraid.
Of the information exchange fraud.
Exchanging my deepest struggles for a casual “I’m currently in a bad place”.
I’m scared, that I might mistake a danger zone as a safe space to open up the gruesome package, carefully wrapped in a bright smile.
A meal, my anxiety.
I’m afraid of the forks distributed among the hands of people — seemingly friends, whose eyes mirror hunger for a piece of me.
I am afraid of sharing myself to people and having none of them;
Fraudsters, encouraging me to talk about my worst relationships, while they hide their own deathly cancer in the request; “pray for me oh!”
Just the thought of nothing left for me sends a chill down my spine.
No shield, no armor.
So I think to myself,
“There should be a mystery left”
something to package at least.
Do not get me wrong, though I do not live with what you think of me, I still think that I should be able to look doll pretty today, and tomorrow, appear in my comfort sweatshirt,
I should Succeed without the pressure of not failing ever again, and I should fail without their expectation of me falling apart.
The furtive glances, the nods of appraisal, the unsolicited compassion!
Locked in this endless loop of expressions, I call for help.
“Can I just be out of the spotlight?”
Three seconds go by, and my phone screen lights up with a notification from my Bible app;
“A CITY SET ON A HILL CANNOT BE HIDDEN…”
I sigh and complete the scripture verse in my head.
I know all of these, I should be prepared.
But dear God, I am afraid.
