My mask is made up of fierce independence from all the needs of my spirit. I don't need converstaion or a gentle touch. I certainly don't need you to be concerned for me. I am always alright. No I'm not lonely. No I don't need to talk. Thank you no, I can make it without your help. Really I'm fine. Thanks for asking. Expectations of being let down, ignored or worse being noticed, fear of their words , hostility, being ridiculed or blamed or of not even being thought of, have deep roots in my psyche. The security of the border is well guarded. Sentinels are trained in detecting those who would ingratiate themselves to me. I may serve a purpose for a while. Then uncerimoniously abandoned. Or I'm good for a laugh or occasional distraction. Good enough until someone better comes along. The one they "were always waiting for" has arrived. No body sees beneath my mask. Paradoxically I do not see out of it. A barrier that not only prevents the light from entering but also my inability to see the light in other people.