I used to think I’m emotionally slutty and that I am a needy person. Sometimes I freak me out by how easily I could open up my emotions to someone on the first date. But I realized that’s not me whoring myself or wanting that person to penetrate my heart. That’s the pragmatic part of me not wanting to waste time beating around the bush. If I feel like I cannot get what I need in my life from you, I could easily shut you out. And that’s just me.
I understand that our feelings for a person is the very basis of our relationship with them. If we really want to cultivate a relationship, we must nourish the roots – our feelings we have – instead of focusing on the superficial leaf. It’s also why I find it so easy to let go of people, of friends, of exes. Sometimes I scare myself about how I can easily uproot someone from my life just ’cause the fundamentals of our relationship have become “unavailing” or “obsolete” for me. It’s selfish, I guess. But that’s just me.
This makes me emotionally independent. In fact, too independent that when I get inside a room and don’t find what I need, I could deftly get out. I know it’s selfish but nobody’s perfect. That’s my flaw. I am too sure of what I want and what I need from people that when they stop giving it to me, I shun them. This independence is hinged on my truth that I do not need friends. All these weeks of solitude have made me realize that. I do not need friends or new people in my life unless he’s a potential significant other. I could carry on with only my family by my side.
Most of the time, it puzzles me why people don’t want to talk about raw emotions and feelings, or why some of them pretend to recognize them when really, they don’t. Most people mold uncomfortable emotions into a form that is convenient or “reassuring” for them. When something makes us uneasy, we lie to ourselves. “He relieved my overwhelming two-week loneliness” becomes “I love him,” because I want to feel good about myself by exaggerating and glorifying a cute experience. A “refreshing relief” turns into “love” because not everyone has it and I want to believe I have it and that makes me awesome. And when we’re insecure, we make stories up to make us feel good about ourselves.