I am the work in progress: constantly re-evaluating, changing, questioning, critiquing my motives, my thoughts, my actions, my feelings. I am molded and fashioned into various different forms that evolve. It cannot be detected daily but through months and years of development. This piece of clay has been shaped through fingers of loved ones, artists who have inspired and challenged me, cold hands that have made my skin thicker, and those select few who have cracked the center so that others could repair it. I am not a masterpiece yet, but I am on my way. I still have so many details to define.
I have always realized that trust and commitment are the two things that I am constantly struggling with. I am so willing to give anything, without question, to my friends, to acquaintances, to complete strangers. Yet I am so afraid of giving all of my faith and placing that in one person. I am afraid of complete exposure to the one I desire most. The closer I get, the farther I stray. I am terrified of someone who knows all my mistakes, my secrets, my desires, every inch of my skin, the exact color of my eyes. This fear has caused me to analyze, to challenge, to hide from true words, concrete feelings, and real happiness. How does anyone know real happiness? I was not created this way. I will not deny that with every walkaway I am building up more protection, more defense against the next passerby. But am I sheltering myself or shutting out those worthwhile? Is this the never ending cycle that continues to build up layer by layer? Will no one be able to break through the exterior? I can only imagine, or hope for that matter, that by some little chance of luck someday someone will come along who will slowly melt away the ice to warm the center. For now, this detail is left unfinished, untouched.
