I Forgot How to Express Myself

I Forgot How to Express Myself

The urge to make them listen.

Bringing joy or comfort isn’t the only thing I can offer, sometimes I bring tears, or sad news instead. Sometimes I’m the one who wants to cry harder, not the one making others feel lighter. Sometimes I’m the one who wants someone to listen to me.

After years of playing the elder one, I forgot how to express my real emotions. I forgot how to take off the happy mask and show them how broken I actually felt.

I lost my real friends over time – not because they weren’t real, but because all I was

holding onto were people who found it easy to unload their hearts on me. I tried to make myself someone others could open up to in return, but they weren’t used to that. So I lost them, gradually.

I hate myself for this: I’m the one who wants to express it all, but when I try, I either find no one or I don’t know how to say it.

The emptiness in me took strange turns. Some days I wanted to disappear. Some days I wanted to run toward someone and make them listen to me. Sadly, I know I’m losing on both fronts.

Some days are hard enough that my eyes well up on their own, and it becomes impossible to hide the meltdown. But whenever someone leans in and asks “what happened?”

I freeze.

Photo by Sasha Freemind on Unsplash

My heart gathers up everything it wants to spill, but my brain forgets how to turn it into words.

There are days I want to cry on someone’s shoulder because I’m tired of being dry. I tell myself God loves me, and that’s why He doesn’t want me to open up to anyone but Him. But is that fair? Is it fair to carry a heavy heart alone?

I know I’ll be alright eventually. I know this is making me stronger than most. But what if I finally find the one person I can tell everything to – my feelings, my fears, my genuine concerns and when the moment comes, I forget how to express any of it?

It’s scary to end up alone. Not physically. Emotionally.

I’m afraid that by witnessing my own damage, I’ll stay stuck exactly where I am never able to grow past it.

I’m not scared because I’m hopeless. I’m scared because I keep forgetting how to express myself right.

Maybe one day the words will come easily. Until then, I’ll keep writing them down – because the page never freezes when my heart does.

This story is published on **bloody sweet writers — where the new generation of storytellers redefines creativity. Here, words pulse with passion, imagination knows no limits, and bold ideas take flight. Want to share your voice? Join our community and be part of something bloody sweet**! 🚀

[embed]Bloody Sweet Writers — A Publication New Generation, New Blood, New Ideas!medium.com