Realness

For a long time, I didn't understand what people meant when they said "keep it real" or talked about "being genuine."
That's because I was a fish who didn't know she was wet.
Now that I realize I'm swimming in insincerity, I'm tired of it in a thousand little ways.
I'm tired of making small talk when I'd rather converse about deeper things-- of saying, "How are you today?" when I really want to say, "Tell me your story." I'm tired of avoiding topics that challenge me or bring out uncomfortable emotions. I'm tired of saying trite things like "Oh well, everything will work out," because in this life, it doesn't. I'm tired of not saying cheesy things that I really mean, like "I love you" or "I'm glad you're my friend" or "I hope one day I can be a lot like you." I'm tired of being too embarrassed to answer the doorbell on those mornings when I've just rolled out of bed looking like a frightened chipmunk.
Now I figure, why not?
Not that I want to be inappropriate or rude or annoying. But if I'm avoiding something or hiding something simply because of embarrassment or fear of how it might affect me, then I'm not being real simply because I'm too selfish.
So in a way, I suppose that being real is like so many other traits I wish I could claim; it's rooted in humility.