Emotions, writing.

It's odd how easy it is to cover up feelings, emotions. It's as if a little smile and a response of "Yeah, I'm fine" fixes everything. But inside everything is rushing with either sadness, happiness, fear, anticipation, anger, etc. Then, when something throws itself to you, you can't find the control needed to possess those emotions.
It's similar to a water balloon. It starts off empty, but then fills and fills with the water until eventually, it becomes overly, well, full. And it breaks. The only way to prevent the balloon from overflowing with the water is to drain it, let it all out.
It isn't easy for me to let people in. I've lost many people in my life, been hurt by even more. I have trust issues. There's only one person who knows me as I really am.. no fake smiles, fake tears, fake laughs. Everything being genuine..
So all these feelings of uneasiness, nervousness, anger, fear, motives, excitement.. they're all building up faster as the weeks go by. I'm afraid of them. Of the reactions they'll bring, of the chances. And writing only goes so far in making things better. I wish I could make everything just drain out of me with these words, but I can't. I don't know how to, but I'm willing to learn.
Writing has become like a drug. I constantly need it, I'm addicted. I don't know how people see it or if they even get anything out of it. But honestly, I just want to get something out of it myself.. With every word written, typed, copied, a little piece of the stress or discontent fades away. And I never want to rid that feeling. Knowing how important it is to me scares me, but at the same time relieves me. It scares me to think of the future and if something happens to where I.. can't write. But it relieves me to know I have something so simple to take me away from everything important.
Writing relieves stress in some shape or form. It can make you feel lighter, like the ton of bricks on your shoulders are being lifted one by one.
I have my emotions, my feelings, my secrets. Yet, I have my writing. My pen, pencils, keyboard; notebooks, journal, computer. And I believe they have the ability to fit into each other and bring me closer to where I want to be.