An open letter to anyone who has anything to say, and to anyone who wants to listen.
Dear you,
"Tell me about yourself."
The four worded, 19 lettered statement should be a simple one. The answer should be as basic as your favourite colours and the names of the bands that you listen to when you're driving down the highway and you're the only one in the car. The statement shouldn't send one into panic, it shouldn't send one's mind into a frenzy, a clunking of moving machinery, clicking and turning to try and produce the correct answer, and coming up with only a stuttering silence. The answer should be simple, but the word should is a paradox in itself, for anything that should be, has a reason for not being, and therefore shouldn't. A confusing paradox, but nonetheless, still a paradox. The reason the simplicity of these answers contain the word should, is because the answer really isn't so simple after all. The definition of yourself should not be confined to the limits of your favourite colours and of your favourite songs, for we are so much more than the colours we prefer and the music we listen to. There's a reason we are so much more, because for every simple answer, there is a why. Why is that colour your favourite? Perhaps it is because the boy you loved when you were sixteen had eyes the colour of a blue sky, so now whenever someone asks you your favourite colour, your mind automatically remembers his eyes staring into yours, and your mouth blurts out the first colour it sees; blue. Or perhaps because the day your mother died she was wearing a yellow t-shirt, so now the colour of the yellow sunshine is your favourite because it is the only thing that reminds you of her.
You see, there is more to an answer than just a simple answer, because for every thing we love there is a reason why we love it.
So, you can imagine that distress upon hearing the inevitable question, because where is one to begin? Do you begin with the colour of his eyes that for some, **** reason, are the only colour you can think of? Or do you begin with the beating of your heart when you meet someone knew? Do you begin by saying "hey, I'd really like to answer this, but you see, I have social anxiety and the thought of letting you inside of my brain is honestly quite terrifying"? I doubt the words would be able to swim through the opening of your mouth, pour out like a waterfall and crash into the ears of those who are trying to hear.
And so, when I first hear the statement, I don't know where to begin, but likewise, I don't know where to end. Is there too much you can say when you first meet someone? If I am being completely honest, I'd love to tell you it all. I'd love for the words to crash into my mouth and pour out, for them not to be stopped by the filter that is controlled by my brain. There are many things I'd like to say, but I'm afraid you don't want to hear them. Should I begin? Should I tell you all the things I am so afraid to say? Will you listen?
Maybe, if you smile at me just right, and your eyes lock with mine, I'll be able to let the words come out. So smile, nod your head, and don't be afraid to listen to what people have to say.
Sincerely, me.
PS. I hope one day you are there to listen, and that on that day the sun is shining and the sky is blue, and the words flow out of me before I get the chance to stop them.
- Maybe if we all said what we wanted to say the first time, life would be easier [s.s]
