Being Safe and Being honest

In time, I learn there are two paths that go in opposite directions. I feel safe when i watch horror b-budget flicks when i am tucked in my bed on a rainy day. The horror,although excites cannot touch me. I feel safe when i sit in a public transport and I get near home. The claustrophobic feeling in a moving box becomes powerless. I feel safe when I’m surrounded by loving faces. All things familiar feel safe don’t it? Even the bad ones. Even those that have hurt you before. But everyone knows that SAFE is just SAFE. My heart does not beat, there is no flicker in my head.It is expectation, a foil to excitement.
This makes me dishonest, doesn’t it? Because I live in this calm buzz. It vibrates at the seam, threatening to split. It is always there but only I know this. It is a life dictated to me. My role, my place, my function, formed from the way i was chosen to be.
I do not have the courage to show myself. It may be butterflies or worms? What will then happen to me. Where will the apology begin and where will it end?
I will keep on, because safe is bearable. It wears me out but i understand it.
I am sorry, I can not be what you thought you see.

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