A woman is a mystery, simply because she keeps so many things to herself.
It is not that she doesn’t want to let know everything she is thinking but simply because a woman ponders; she meditates, reflects, muses, ruminates and scrutinizes.
She is the direct result of the women who came before her. She relies on those things she has learned and seen in the generations that proceeded her. She may have seen good things, she may had seen bad things but still the have effected who she is.
She will make determinations on what she instinctively knows, that thing that her gut tells her.
She won’t tell you she is in pain (of any kind) until it becomes unbearable.
She won’t tell you the little things like she makes PB & J sandwiches the way her dad taught her to because you may think it is silly.
She won’t tell you on those longs nights when she can’t sleep she snuggles a stuffed sheep and she thinks of you, wondering if you think of her when you can’t sleep.When she does finally goes to sleep, she will dream about you, but she won’t tell you that either. She will just wake up with a sigh wishing the dream lasted longer.
She won’t tell you that the necklace tucked inside her shirt, near her heart, has your name on it because that is where you reside.
She won’t tell you that she would like to be told on occasion that you think she is beautiful or at least pretty.
She won’t tell you about her insecurities, her fears, or her worries. She will think about them. She will look into the mirror and see wrinkles where there used to be none. She will examine her body and wonder about a lot of things.
She won’t tell you that you can tell her something funny and she is still smiling about it days later.
Like most women, she will tell you a great deal, but there are things she just won’t tell you because the live within her spirit.