today a friend asked if she could read what I write here. 
no.
none of my friends, except a few people whom I’ve met through this space, know that I have this space. of the few — two — who do, none knows how to access it.
in the beginning it was about fear. I was testing out my voice. I’ve always been reticent to share. this space is no different. stringing together words and articulating the thoughts to which only I have access is scary enough. sharing those strings and those thoughts is terrifying.
but I’m becoming more comfortable with the idea.
so what stops me now is a point originally made by a friend in reference to the beginnings of relationships.
he thinks he wants to know to know everything I’m thinking. but he doesn’t.
the same is true of this space.
honesty would be better. easier.
of course we should all be honest with one another. but there are just some things no one will share, even the most honest among us.
we end phone calls with let’s talk soon and I’ll call you next week because we don’t want to acknowledge that we’re both really busy, and we might not talk again for a few months.
we end relationships with let’s be friends or you’re amazing, but I’m not looking for anything serious because we can’t bring ourselves to say you laugh too loudly or I think I can do better or I just don’t like you at all.
we ignore the fact that our brother’s girlfriend isn’t very interesting because she makes him happy. we avert our eyes when our friend buys particularly hideous shoes, because he thinks they’re awesome. we put in headphones and forget any sound that manages to make it past them when we hear our roommate having sex through our too-thin apartment walls.
we smile at rude waiters and thank unhelpful bank tellers and keep our lips pressed firmly together when the woman on her cell phone didn’t even think to hold the door and it slams in our faces.
be honest, yes, but distill your honesty through a filter of kindness and consideration and empathy.
so this is my kindness. my consideration. my empathy. this is my thing that I won’t share.
you don’t want to know all of my thoughts. and I don’t want to know all of yours.
I’ve said things here that are deeply personal. things that, if I hadn’t put them here, I’d have put no where.
so I retain some privacy in this little space.

today a friend asked if she could read what I write here. 

no.

none of my friends, except a few people whom I’ve met through this space, know that I have this space. of the few — two — who do, none knows how to access it.

in the beginning it was about fear. I was testing out my voice. I’ve always been reticent to share. this space is no different. stringing together words and articulating the thoughts to which only I have access is scary enough. sharing those strings and those thoughts is terrifying.

but I’m becoming more comfortable with the idea.

so what stops me now is a point originally made by a friend in reference to the beginnings of relationships.

he thinks he wants to know to know everything I’m thinking. but he doesn’t.

the same is true of this space.

honesty would be better. easier.

of course we should all be honest with one another. but there are just some things no one will share, even the most honest among us.

we end phone calls with let’s talk soon and I’ll call you next week because we don’t want to acknowledge that we’re both really busy, and we might not talk again for a few months.

we end relationships with let’s be friends or you’re amazing, but I’m not looking for anything serious because we can’t bring ourselves to say you laugh too loudly or I think I can do better or I just don’t like you at all.

we ignore the fact that our brother’s girlfriend isn’t very interesting because she makes him happy. we avert our eyes when our friend buys particularly hideous shoes, because he thinks they’re awesome. we put in headphones and forget any sound that manages to make it past them when we hear our roommate having sex through our too-thin apartment walls.

we smile at rude waiters and thank unhelpful bank tellers and keep our lips pressed firmly together when the woman on her cell phone didn’t even think to hold the door and it slams in our faces.

be honest, yes, but distill your honesty through a filter of kindness and consideration and empathy.

so this is my kindness. my consideration. my empathy. this is my thing that I won’t share.

you don’t want to know all of my thoughts. and I don’t want to know all of yours.

I’ve said things here that are deeply personal. things that, if I hadn’t put them here, I’d have put no where.

so I retain some privacy in this little space.

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  1. interiorlines said: Everything about this “Yup.”
  2. everywordshesays posted this