It’s difficult to be honest about how you’d rather sit a little way away from someone because their body heat is overlapping into your personal space, their food breath is wafting up your nostrils, their laundry should have been rinsed more thoroughly (‘Is that a biological 2-in-1 she uses?’)
It’s not easy to be honest about how the sudden hug you got that threw you momentarily and made you want to pull away was welcome but you should have been asked first. How you need warning even for the very nicest of things.
It’s embarrassing to explain honestly that you struggled to get dressed this morning because your clothes felt like they touched your skin too much after a shower. You’d rather sit naked on the floor alone for an hour and maybe just write something or read something and get dressed a couple of hours later than everyone else.
It’s almost too complicated to explain honestly how you really like someone’s face and eyes and company but if you didn’t have to look at them and could have a conversation from behind the sofa or in the dark or perhaps by email you’d be able to get your words in the right order and be more confident.
It’s impossible to be honest about how you hid all day just because being yourself is something you are a little bit ashamed of, embarrassed about, and yet you need to be yourself so you don’t go mad.
The honest truth is there if anyone wants it. But you don’t share it because you know no one really wants that kind of honesty.