Vague.

All I wanted was to be understood,
I yearned for the time
When I could string my thoughts
Into brief sentences,
And sip a cup of coffee with
A companion who could
Effortlessly read
Between the lines of my speech.
I wanted someone to speak to-
About life and death,
And all things interim-
Long after midnight struck,
And know that my contemplations
Have found a listener,
Who can grasp them
In their complex entirety.
But you came, unexpectedly,
And you entered with nonchalance,
Taken aback, at first, I realized
The value of being misunderstood
For I knew how wonderful
The ability to unburden yourself
And speak your mind was,
While having the comfort
Of knowing that you aren’t
Exposed to ridicule or vulnerable,
For what you have spoken
Has been heard and understood
But not completely,
You still have a part of yourself
That is assured to be confidential.
I found comfort in the knowledge
That you would attempt
To fathom all that there is to me,
But I would still retain
A part of myself- my secret,
My precious, my uniqueness.
There was also a certain relief
In not having to hide from you
For I could put down my façades
And mask myself with
My inexplicable ideologies.
I knew that no matter
How much I divulged,
You would never know me fully.
And I reveled in the victory
Of being precise enough
To elaborate my mind’s worth,
While being vague enough to strengthen my shield
With the ability to escape
Whenever I pleased.

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