The begining of my masks and other crap

    I find it hard to express my feelings towards others, now at least. It's hard to remember, but I think it was easier for me when I was younger. It was easier to be bold and loud when you were unaware of the consequences of such actions. Even then when I tried to hide my feelings I was easy to read, like a book you could say.
    I couldn't lie with a striaght face, without my voice hitching or my eyes looking away. Now it's almost second nature in a strange fucked up way. It's something my father encouraged once I got older, the ability to lie being a highly useful thing in life.
    At first I was agaisnt such a thing, finding it distasteful and just wrong, but after a while I found it easier to lie in certain situations than it was to tell the truth. It became a slow downfall that I easily embraced and twisted into my own being. A beautiful mask handcrafted by myself and worn only when it was necessary.
    It was towards teachers at first and only half lies, after all the best lie is hidden in a truth. It was easy having already gained their trust earlier by being the calm student in class. Eventually it morphed and I started lying to my family. Such an easy thing to do, specially since it was over the phone and I just had to use the right tone of voice. I was really tested when I saw them all in person, another mask was born then- the good daughter. She said all the right things to make that part of the family happy and easily kept in their good graces.
    That mask has been lost overtime, for I have long since stopped caring what they think of me. It means little to me whether they care for me or not. It's easy to guess that as I grew older more masks were crafted and it became easier and easier for me to switch between them. Sometimes it's difficult to tell whether I'm acting a part or being myself.
    This probably explains my inability to express my emotions and be unable to understand them. Which is a curious thing for I still experience them, but just have difficulty grasping them. It took me the longest time to know what Aster truely meant to me and even then my subconscious had to help me by sending me a strange dream. Although me knowing what he means to me doesn't help if I'm unable to express that feeling towards him.
    One of my guilty pleasures is fanfiction, more speciffically slash/yaoi/boyxboy hint hint nudge nudge. If you don't understand than you're either really innocent or too young to be reading this. Either way you shouldn't be here. Please press Alt+F4. Gone? Good.
    Anyway, I enjoy reading about the steady building of a romantic male relationship, because more often than not both of the protagonists have difficulty discussing their feelings or expressing them in certain ways. That or they go about showing their feelings in the most ludicrous of ways that it's baffling to me that they ever manage to get together in the first place. Alas those boys have the power of an author on their side, which unfortunelty for them means they will somehow end up together.
    Back to my point, because surprisingly there is a point, I find it easy to empathize with these types of characters, the ones that are shy, embarrassed, or emotionally stunted because I'm so much like them in some ways. Finding it difficult to express my love to the one I care for, showing it in such small ways that they will likely never notice such things.
    Holding myself back from taking the lead or just letting myself go. Hesitating, because I'm a coward. That's the main difference between those characters and me they stand up and take charge when they must, me? Well I end up freezing, unable to react unsure of what to say, angry at myself for being so unaware of the needs of my partner and unable to do anything to help them. In those moments I'm worse than scum.
    I'm trying to change though, specially after I royally fucked up not too long ago with Aster and Larkspur ended up breathing down my neck trying to keep herself from strangling me. Since then I've been trying to show more, but it's hard sometimes, because there is still a tiny piece inside of me telling me to hold back because Aster will leave one day, they all do and it will only hurt more.
    It's hard not listening to that voice, but I've found it to be easier after I outright told Aster my fear. 'I'm used to people eventually leaving,' I told him. 'It's just a part of life and something that's a normal occurence in my own.' The obvious that means I'm waiting for you to leave as well went unsaid, still I wonder if he understood it completely. I won't lie to him, not anymore, but I still won't tell him everything. 
    I feel like I'm rambaling about nothing. Still I feel as if I'm in a stump. It's difficult to write recently, but I enjoy writing so this is me forceing something, even though it's just awful. I apologize for this horrendous piece of writing, I'll work on it. Maybe write out my daydream.

Till next time