To Be Figured Out

Sometimes I wonder why I do not want to be figured out. I take pride in knowing that those close to me don’t know me, or are confused by the things I say and do. I am amused when people think they know me when they really don’t–the pain comes far later. What’s to figure out in a person anyway? Why try figuring a person out? What does one get when figuring someone out? Is there power involved? Does one have the upper hand when one knows you all too well? Why am I not at ease when I think a person’s coming too close to having me solved?

Mental Image: Someone’s trying to solve an intensely difficult equation on the board. Let’s call that person Cody (or some other unisex name). So Cody takes time and effort in solving that solution. Cody focuses on it, gives it all the attention. Then Cody figures it out, smiles, presents the answer to the class…grabs the eraser, erases the equation and the solution, goes back to his/her seat. Back to normal life.

Go figure.

We can only let so little out.

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