We all have a mask. We use it every day to cover our flaws. Why is it we hide from ourselves? Are we afraid of who we are?
“I want you to trust me…” I say in a loving voice.
“I do…”
Yet, I still see the mask… It does us no good. Masks only take our reputations and crumble them.
She gave me a half smile and got into the cab, “See ya.”
I waved as the cab drove off. Do i want to see her again?
Something says yes, but then my heart sinks, as if part of me is unsure… I love her but… but what?
I keep telling myself not to worry about it, and to shove the thought to the back of my mind, but then the doubt eventually surfaces again… I hate it.
Is she wearing her mask, or is she being true? I cannot tell… The only thing I’m sure of is that I will never wear my mask… Those who pay attention to me will see me, those who dont will fail to see my pure heart… I know she sees my heart, but i wish she would see it with her own eyes…