Voidance

I'm an avoider. I avoid. It's what I do. I avoid what I can't stomach. What I can't face. Who I don't want to stand face to face with. Somehow the vacancy and emptiness fills me up...or so I try to convince myself that it makes me whole and not weird. I'm not a coward, but I don't care for confrontation. I don't look to fight, but I'll stand to fight if need be. Conflict is not a friend of mine, but it's a part of life that I'm aware I must deal with. I deal with emotional voidance when it comes to my family. If I ignore it, it will go away, eventually. It's that mentality. If I pretend it doesn't exist, it will cease to exist. If I will it not to be, my will will be stronger than it's being. The ugly will disappear if I close my eyes and count to 10. In the dark it will die and in the light, I shall escape.

It's a terrible trait. Perhaps it's the worst part of me. I know I'm made-up of many pieces, but this is one piece of me I loathe. It's my demeanor. It's cold and bare. I'm not welcoming. It's much like the black suit. This is not me. I'm not that guy. But to my Mother, she fails to see anything but this right now. And it's not her fault, it's mine. I won't allow her to see more of me. And for that, I blame myself. Things of me I openly could share with a girlfriend or even a perfect stranger, but with my Mom, I clam up. Why is that? My emotions go into lockdown. I brush it all off. I'm brave and unscathed from anything thrown at me. Or so my hard outer shell likes to proclaim. It's strong and resilient to pain. It's that mask. The protective shield. And I wear it well.

I'm usually cuddly and warm. Open and honest. In touch with my softer side and willing to share. Open to listening. Desiring the closeness and the connection. I'm the guy who goes in for the hug. Not the guy who's spine stiffened and who's body became ridged when she laid her hand on my shoulder. I feel awkward and uncomfortable. Disconnected and distant. Even nauseas and angry. The space is becoming greater and I fear one day I'll be in that dark room where I'll count to 10, wishing things will fade away, and that my wish will actually come true. I'll be alone and it will be too late. This is what I'll be granted. I need to open my eyes now.