Iām sick of certain kind of introverts. There, I said it. Iām sick of them. And yes, I said it again. Why? I donāt have the patience to deal with them.
They keep their thoughts private and only let out the surface (if theyāre feeling generous) of what theyāre thinking and when I deal with them on basis of what they present me, they whine about being misjudged. āYouāre wrong! You donāt understand!ā, they always proclaim, and I despise that phrase. āIām not wrong; youāre an ignorant Neanderthal.āĀ is usually my reply but I wish I could come up with something more soul crushing.
I detest private people. Keeping your true self suppressed is not a virtue. Itās an insecurity. Whenever I come across someone very private, my first impulse is to conclude that this person has deep insecurities so even if she/he is valuable deep inside, that value will get marred by the insecurities nonetheless when I try to leverage it.
Hiding your cards doesnāt make them special, mysterious, or any more valuable, nor does putting all your cards on the table make them any less valuable. Just this simple demand I make of them and they manage to fuck up each and every time.
Oh wait, so I can understand you if I spend enough time with you, my dear introvert? I can really understand you if you get comfy with me? Well, guess what: Wake up, princess. I donāt have the time to do that. The world does not revolve around you. Communication and honesty are the main keys in maintaining a decent friendship, relationship, partnership, whatever.
Be all you are in what you are to me from the day one, or get crushed under the weight of condescension forever. Itās your choice.
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