on things your own

Sharing is caring, also in a more thought-related sense. And no question, I love the look on people’s faces, their heartfelt embraces and words of honest happiness when you share good news and they are just so excited for you. Same goes for bad news that evoke empathy, words to cheer your up and hugs to envelope you in warmth and comfort to make your sorrow a little lighter.

I am grateful for all the people I can turn to with these thoughts and issues. And I appreciate the reciprocity of it, too! Having loved ones share their stories leaves a prideful churning in my stomach. Sharing your most inner mind, as topsy turvey it might be, means you care a great deal about the other person, it shows trust and must not be mistaken for weakness. Years ago for some reason I thought if you cannot handle your issues on your own, it just means you are not tough enough for society, not brave enough for reality, not daring enough to try to solve problems on your own. In hindsight, I am at loss to explain where I picked up that foolish idea and I must say I am incredibly relieved I figured that out in time when growing up and maturing. And I would like to encourage anyone who still has a wrong idea of seeking advice and putting your troubles into words to try otherwise! It makes life so much easier! So much more bearable!

However, there are just some things that appear too precious to me to share! Memories I am so overly protective about because I would envy anyone who gets a shared piece of that information. Although it stays my memory, although it stays mine. There is no way to really translate that feeling into words and it is an unthinkable challenge to explain why you kept something a secret for so long when the beans are spilled at some point. Those experiences and memories are just very personal and dear to me. I could not share them with anybody if I wanted as they are too wonderful to actually be put into those vain phrases we call language. So, I guess, sometimes I need some more time to share than others. But eventually I will. I just feel that in todays world memories get shared and run this risk to be blown out of proportion , that I want to treat them with more respect. As they deserve. I want them to feel special to me. And everyone knows how special you feel when guarding a secret. My mind starts spinning when I picture a voice over the phone when I finally free my well kept secrets, when I am looking into someone’s face picturing their reaction to sensational news. Honestly, it is never about sensationalism, most of the time it is really plain information. Yet, those are things I value deeply. Things I hold very dear to my heart. Things I need to keep to myself for just a little longer. Things that superficially only have a meaning to me anyway, that do not appear to be someone else’s business to begin with. Things my own.


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