(no subject)
i feel insincere. that is the worst possible thing i can feel.
"he has his facades, but underneath it, he's all real -- not an amalgamation of things he sorta wishes he was."
i hate to put it in words -- admitting what i'm sure anyone who has tried to know me has already understood -- but i pride myself on the raw, open truth that lies behind the infallible walls i've built around my heart and mind. it's incredibly difficult and surprisingly simple to be allowed entrance past those walls and, once inside, the fields of everything that encompasses khadija lay bare to be viewed and very easily trampled.
yet, these days, i feel as though these walls are being extended, layers emerging, creating a labyrinth, the centre of which i myself am not so confident in being able to find. i allow others their moment of celebration at breaching the initial wall, going along with their self-created images of who i am, knowing that those images are simply based on small parts of the whole -- the parts i prefer. i anticipate the disappointment and overall feeling of deception they feel when they run, head first, into the second layer of wall, higher and thicker than the first.
that's what makes my insincerity so terrible: many people are insincere about who they are but, in a sense, their insincerity is quite genuine; i have these ugly, frightening walls i force people to fight through with the promise that, once on the other side, i will be there, waiting and willing, holding everything that i am outstretched in my hands, an offering to whomever loved me enough to find their way inside.
that's not who i am anymore, though. it is who i want to be, so i continue to go through the pretenses, but that's not what people get. and, each corner turned in this disgusting labyrinth reveals another part of me that i used to be or long to be, which, in a way, is just taking the traveller even further from who i actually am.
sadly enough, i don't think i can go back, though. i am afraid to. without completely destroying the materials of me that built these walls, i can't get rid of them. how do i crumble these walls, sifting through the rubble to pick out the parts of myself i still love? how do i piece those small, fragmented parts together into something i would once again be willing to offer freely? most frighteningly, how do i break those inner walls without damaging the original outer barrier?
i depend on that barrier. i have always prided myself on it, and though it has lost some of its significance, i still pride myself on it. that wall is the one thing that allows me to share so openly, love so freely -- that outer protection is the only form of self-preservation i have. once i have gone through the process of pulling myself apart and reforming my being, i will once again be on display to be admired or annihilated as desired and i will need some sort of armor on which i can rely.
as per usual, i can't help but feel this task is one i cannot do on my own. part of this wall i've built around myself is the fact that i don't depend on anyone else to help me in any personal development -- nobody knows me better than i know myself, thus i am the only one that knows what i truly need. but, i need support. as i am crumbling, i need someone who can recognize all the important parts of me and who will hold those parts tightly in his arms, keeping them together and safe. i need someone who can stay at my side as i rebuild, patiently helping me through my frustrations. i need someone who embodies the sincerity i'm striving for, acting as a living model for my construction.
this is a huge vision i have for myself and, as previously stated, i am scared of what irreversible damage i may suffer. but, i am not content with who i am right now. i need to get back to who i truly am and, once again, allow sincerity to guide my everything. these walls of things i wish i was are stopping me from truly sharing myself.
i may always have my facades, but behind that ugly, frightening wall, i need to be all real.