Greetings, Human.

Arms-Crossed-Laptop-Coffee-Shop-Tea Photo : Alanna Bagladi

I don’t handle emotions well.

I’m usually as stoic as the kid who pooped his pants in Kindergarten when it comes to tense situations, but if I hear something particularly terrible or heart-wrenching (i.e., someone died, a tornado is heading right for our house, etc.), my first instinct is to laugh. Hysterically. I have no idea why. Over time I’ve learned to kind of squeeze my face into the proper emotional configuration to be passable as a member of a society, but still… it’s a challenge. And then, suddenly, much after the latest tragedy is over, I’ll see a caterpillar slink by and I’ll be sobbing and writing about it in my diary all day, like out of a terrible episode of As Told by Ginger (a brilliant piece of television history, that right there).

Anyhow, this has made my relationships with people a bit complicated. In high school I was yelled at for not seeming to care when one of my friends moved away. I used to never press people when they look like they’re in a bad mood (why didn’t they ever say something if they wanted to talk?), but I’m working on that. I do suppose I come off as cold sometimes, and I’m afraid that it offends people. Actually, I’m sure it does.

But the thing is, I really do care. I think I just process things in a different way than some people, like I need to figure things out on an objective level before I can process them on an emotional or spiritual level. I can’t help it. I don’t want to fake emotions, and I refuse to. Especially if these emotions are attached to something I actually care about.

What I’m trying to say is that if you’re like me, you’re not alone. If you’re not, be patient with my kind. The love is there, it just doesn’t know how to express itself right away.