I worry about being known

I worry about being known.

On the surface,

You may think I’m funny, silly and excited,

And I am,

But I’m also deep, thoughtful and worrisome.

What if,

Once someone sees past my humour,

They see me,

As I am.

I don’t hide it purposely,

But I suppose I reveal myself slowly,

Once uncovered,

Am I loved?

Or too much?

You loved me for a long while,

But at the end,

You told me I was a lot.

You had never mentioned this,

Despite my worried asking.

You left because I was too much,

Over years of getting to know me,

Once you knew me,

I was too much.

So I take this as evidence,

Of my character,

Once revealed,

I’m unloved.

I may speak too much of small things,

Laugh too much about the wrong things,

Want to call too often.

I only did these things as I felt safe around you,

I felt myself around you,

I thought it was safe to be around you,

I didn’t know the cost of being myself would mean loosing you.

I think of a small insignificant time,

An encounter between us early on,

Where I shared my stresses with you,

You were not unkind,

You were simply observant,

And you said you had never seen me like this.

I asked you if this was bad,

And I don’t remember your answer,

But I have my answer now.