Prose

Sharing myself (1)

*a quote from Trevor Noah’s book, Born a crime.*

Hi,

My name is Ivy. And i have trouble expressing my feelings to people. Note that i said TO people.

I write poetry, i sing and taught myself a few chords on the guitar. I like sports specifically netball and basketball. I enjoy watching them and playing them. (Haven’t since highschool though). I also enjoy watching movies and reading novels.


I love hugs.

I hate telling people how i feel about them. I hate being my true vulnerable self. Because im scared. That once everyone sees just how fragile i am they will either take advantage of me or take off in the opposite direction. (Emphasis on TAKE)

I am analytical and often turn that on myself. I analyze my personality too frequently. When i started i thought there was something wrong with me, with the way i think, very early in my life. That there was something wrong with me being able to turn off my emotions in favour of logic.

The truth is. I turn off and i shut down what i dont understand. And i dont understand emotions. Mine. Or yours. Thats why i write, sing and hug. Thats why i shout when im angry, why i switch off light switches and switches at sockets when they arent in use.

 I control what i can. I ignore what i cant.

It is why i text you asking basic questions that i know the answer to. Im reaching out to you with rhetoric.

I dont know how to say, “hi i need your help.”

Or “hi, im worried about you how are you.”

Or “hi, i love you. I want you back in my life.”

So,  i say…

“Hi, how much is that?”
“Hi, i want to talk to you.”
“Hi, im bored. What are you up to.”
“Hi, do you know where i can find this?”

Or just “Hi”

My name is Ivy, and i have trouble expressing my emotions directly to people.

*Mutheu*

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