Sharing the moments of your life that define you to people you don’t know tends to be a double edged sword. On one hand, it gets off your chest the things you kept inside and helps people understand you for who you are. On the other hand, it often brings back the memories that still burn and run the risk of alienating you from the people you open up to.
Then again, that’s what opening up to someone really means in life. Chances are, you’ll never form the kind of friendship you need, let alone want with them given your world and theirs bear no similarity in experience. The world is a big place and not everyone is willing to walk the same path you did. But then, every once in a while, you meet someone who doesn’t pity you for your own sob story, but relate to it with a world of their own. Every once in a while, you do find a friend you need and with that a friend that you want.
A long time ago, I used to think that I share my life too much with people who will, at the end of the day, turn out to be nothing more than someone whose entire conversation is limited to “hi-byes”. Now, I wonder, that maybe, I haven’t been sharing my life with anyone at all.
I’ve got to start somewhere after all.