beneath whatever shell of defensive and coping mechanisms this shit world has forced you to develop is a soft creature that has desire, to see and be seen, to touch and be touched, and that creature is the Truest You
i think at some point in the past week my shell cracked all the way open. it had been shattering for some time but whatever happened in the past week broke me open like an egg and i am scared of having to put up walls again
would be cool if i didn't have to temper my emotions and reduce myself enough to not be overwhelming in that BPD sense of the word. i also think that maybe i killed my ability to love. thanks for this post, i think i have some work to do.