Updated: Dec 4, 2022
I recently read about the idea of naked truths.
You know, the things in your head that you would never say out loud. The whole entire truth. Although I speak my mind quite frequently, I do have a lot of naked truths hidden in the corners and cracks of my brain. Like when my psychologist or therapist ask me how I’m doing mentally I usually don’t give them the whole story. “I’m okay, it hasn’t been that bad.” Or when someone hurts me and they ask me why I’m upset, I cannot for the life of me get myself to tell them what they did wrong. “Oh, nothing. I’ll get over it.” Sometimes I never get over it. I do the exact same thing when I have feelings for someone. Not just a little school girl crush where your cheeks flush, though mine do that too. The kind of feeling that is overwhelming. The kind of feeling that makes your knees weak. So here’s my naked truth: although you and I are frequently in close proximity, it is the hardest thing for me. The idea of being so close to each other makes my heart flutter and my stomach flip. You create a whole gymnastics team in the pit of my stomach just by standing near me.
It’s the type of feeling that cannot be explained within the lines of poetry, which is something I try my hardest to do. Or even in the entries of my journal, which is written in every single day. I’m someone who calls themselves a writer. I am by definition a writer. I write on this blog once a week, I’m working on a book online, and I have published many poems. I am a writer. If I’m a writer, then why is it so hard to write about you? I can write out actual things that happened. I can pull storylines out of my head and put together a short story in less than 24 hours. So why am I completely incapable of writing about someone I care deeply for? It’s like you make me feel so many things that none of it makes sense. I can’t form a cohesive sentence or even a thought because the better half of my brain is clouded by you. It truly feels like writing is my super power and you are my kryptonite. That is my second naked truth: you are my kryptonite and it is ruining my life.
You might make my life better and bring a sense of happiness that wasn’t always there. Yes, you make things easier. Whether it’s a cycle of depression where the clouds over my head begin to pour or the anxiety inside me is too much to bare; you make it easier to breathe. You know me well enough to see when I’m unable to handle life and then you have the right words to say. Sometimes in those moments, all I really need is you. But you also are the reason my breath hitches in the back of my throat or my thoughts delay. You make living kind of worth it, but you also make functioning absolutely difficult. I cannot count on one hand how many times my heart has practically stopped beating because I heard your laugh nearby. Unfortunately for me, it’s a sound I could listen to on repeat like a broken record. It’s soothing, I guess.
With all that being said, my naked truths may never be said out loud from my own mouth. They may never, ever be shown to you. But those naked truths were hard to write and worth typing because at least someone deserves to hear it.