Almost the sixth week since the semester started, I wouldn’t even call it a ‘new semester’ anymore because this ain’t new. Nothing is. The motivation that kept me through the last semester has disappeared so far within myself that I can’t even find it, not even after turning over all the stones that sits ever so peacefully in my mind.
But ever since returning back to school and actually setting first impressions aside for a while, I’ve finally slowed down and paid attention to everyone around me. And as much as most things are completely still, there is one outstanding feature that I suddenly remembered.
A lot of people still wear their hearts on their sleeves.
And it’s not that it’s a bad thing or anything, but… I just feel… a teensy bit uneasy about it. Because… I’m under the impression that at my age, you would at lease bring up your guards up by, 30% and not still hold your heart on your sleeves.
I used to be like that, kind of. I’d wear my heart on my sleeve, and end up getting hurt. Then eventually, and I don’t even know how or when, I just started shielding myself. I guess, it came with maturity? It is just very curious and interesting to watch though. Because they just show all of their emotions raw. And that, the moment something’s wrong, everyone who has eyes would be able to notice.
And I guess, that’s just it. It’s the very thing that I just cannot understand. It’s a very strange thing. I’ve spent years building up the wall, the walls that separates myself from people because I didn’t know that people could understand. And yet, there are these people, wearing their hearts on their sleeves, seemingly unafraid. But when something upsetting happens, we see how it all goes down. How the heart gets crunched, how it gets poked.
I guess, the point of this post is just that…
Don’t wear your heart on your sleeve because you’ll never know when your best friends will just do an about-turn with a pin and stab it through your heart.
Wounds may not hurt anymore, but the scars will not fade.
Have a great week ahead!