Open Up 

“Open up!” they say. I hear knocking on the inside of my brain and voices coaxing me to lower my walls. But I cannot. I’m used to this…this aloneness. I may not like being alone with my thoughts but I’ve sure as hell got good at it. 

“Open Up!” they yell. They want to me lower my defences so they can slip right in. When my guard is down and I’m yearning for comfort, I almost give in. Almost. But then I realise that the reason they want me to open up is so that they can get an insight into something mysterious, into something or someone who they never really understood anyways. No one likes to be left in the dark. 

“Open up!” Their incessant pleading is unceasing. But I won’t. Because they listen to reply, not to understand. They listen with the motive to suppress my thoughts and not calm them. Don’t mistake my need for comfort as need for attention. If you take my thoughts and dreams and pointless wondering away, who am I really? You listen for yourself, not for me.  

“Open up.” The voices are a whisper now, with an edge of irritation. No. Don’t you realise that if you really care you would break down those walls and not wait for me to pull them down? No, I will not hold the door open for you to waltz right in because that means that I’ll have to hold it open even when you waltz right out. 

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