Learning to useful

I don’t believe in instant connections.

I enjoy getting to know people. I observe, learn and I adjust. I always have.

I’m good at reading people. I’ve been told it’s creepy but it’s bred out of needing to protect myself as a child. Learning what mood my mother was in based on the sound of her footsteps. If my sister was in the mood to talk based on her facial expressions.

I grew up learning, now I do it with every person I meet. When my boss is snappy it means he’s tired or has a headache, I keep quiet. When my friend wants to hang out, they need to talk about something.

I adjust because people don’t want me, they need something from me. I can always provide so I always do.

Slipping into roles, into different masks is as easy as breathing. I don’t even realise I’m doing it most of the time.

But then I think about just connecting. I don’t trust it but I’ve had that. Just that instant trust, instant connection with another person. It’s like a breath of fresh air.

I still learn but it’s not because I have to. It’s because I want to. I don’t have to fit myself into a mould because they already see me. It’s the best feeling.

She left. I never actually understood why she got mad, why she chose to stop being friends. I wish I did so I could fix it. It’s been years now but I still remember. I still miss it.

That’s why I don’t trust it. Or maybe I just don’t trust people at all because I’ve never met a person who doesn’t leave. Shame I can’t meet myself.

I’m like a dog, loyal until death. Even now, I’d defend anyone i’ve ever met. Even if they don’t deserve it. Even if I’m still angry at them, even if they hurt me.

I don’t want people to feel like me. Does that make sense?

I don’t want people to look at a relationship and try to figure out how they can be used. I don’t want people to look at themselves and not see beyond that.

I measure things, myself, in how useful I can be. Situations are measured, actions are weighed. I pick and choose masks based on situations. They are all the same person, just different versions.

If people watch you change, they question, they judge. People never see small differences, small changes.

The person is loud, energetic, joyful. If you met them, you’d think that they had such a good and full life. Yet they’re also compassionate, quiet when it matters, there even when you don’t notice. The sun and shadows all in one.

That person is good. You don’t look at them and think that they’re a bad person.

Sure, they wear my face. At first people take a step back, they hesitate. But then the person takes over, their confidence leaks out and they know exactly what they need to be. They win anyone over.

I wish people noticed. One or two have gotten close but never fully understood the complexity of it. My boss knows that I notice, that I accommodate. He said it as a joke but I knew it was real. I don’t think he understands that it’s not me, I’m just the vessel.

My old friend, the instant connection one, she noticed. She took advantage of it all of the time and I allowed it because she would allow my moments of silence like it was normal. She never flinched away when the mask was cracked and I was leaking out of it.

No one understands how important it is to me.

The loudness covers the fact that I’m anxious. I’m always anxious, always slightly shaking. The chaos hides reality, distracts people from looking to deeply. The calmness lets people breathe, the quiet gives me a sense of humanity.

The mask makes me more human than I feel.

Some days I feel like I’m nobody.

All days I feel like I’m just functioning, letting my body and masks lead me. It’s easy.

The masks don’t crack anymore but my soul does. My heart does.

I watch it happen, I sit with it because I’ve tried enough times to understand that it’s futile. My hands can’t keep me together and that’s alright.

I just have to learn to live within the cracks.