Sense the senses

Here I lie, waiting for the accusations to begin.

I don't really know myself. That's weird, right?
I have a hard time convincing people that they don't understand me. Especially the kind who think they can size you up and pass a judgment on the kind of person you are in a day's time.
How can they know me if I don't even know myself?
Some people say I'm too talkative and are then amazed when suddenly in the middle of a conversation I decide to shut up and answer them in mono-syllables.
Others think I'm too quiet and are confused when they happen to meet me in one of those moods when I can carry on an hour long conversation with the neighbourhood stray cat.
Oh and then there are the oh-so-wise ones who'll say matter-of-factly, "You're an ambivert" which sounds more like a word for species that can stay in water or on the land.

Here I lie, waiting for the blame game to start.

It'll kick off soon enough. How I never share what I feel and how they never express what they should. How I should be more tolerant to how they should be more understanding. The list goes on..
It's the same each time.

I'm tired. There's so much more that needs to be resolved. Petty issues are more burdensome than the ones that matter.
I sense the rift I'm creating in my mind.
It feels right.