You are so protective of your real desires and your real feelings. When you were a child you endeavoured never to smile, you did not want anyone to know they had succeeded in making you happy – as if the act of modifying your mood was a supreme violation of your individual integrity.
Even now your most cherished hopes and dreams are painful to speak out loud. There is no particular shame in them, just as there is no shame in being happy. You simply find the notion of their being known, of the things you love and value the most being spoken, makes you feel extremely vulnerable.
In opposition to this you are completely at ease telling everyone your weaknesses, as though to make them common knowledge is to nullify their power and make them useless. Only that which you cherish, only your strengths are worth hiding, protecting.
But you cannot seek that which you love without revealing somehow your intentions. You try to “play it cool” but you know in the end you will lose, because you will never have the courage to show the soft tender underbelly of your desires, the things you want the most.
It would be sad if you desired something terrible. As it is your desires are totally innocuous, so it’s really quite pathetic.
You run circles around the truth with intellectual ambiguation. This is to be your lot until the day you die.