Vulnerable

I knew that the expression on my face could be read by someone who barely knew me. I wished that I could have controlled it, but I had come to accept it long ago as involuntary, and beyond my control. My face displayed a blankness, an absence of emotion, yet somehow underscored by a deep seeded pain. I knew that trying to regain my facial composure was useless, and the best I could do was to hide my momentary lapse by looking away.

There is no one to blame but myself, and I can't help but feel that not even I am fully responsible for this. I never asked for my heart to be worn on my sleeve, and it can be both a blessing and a curse.