Zodiac Depths

You call it transparency. It's control. You unload timelines, medical histories, childhood autopsies, because data feels safer than silence. It reads as an audit, not intimacy. You want receipts before trust exists, so you splash your own first. That teaches strangers to skip the slow build and expect shortcuts. Your secrets deserve a spine. Put them back inside your ribcage and let curiosity do the heavy lift.

Trust grows by surviving small delays. Let someone ask twice. Let them notice what you didn’t volunteer. Gaps test patience and attention; both are stronger than declarations. Secrets ferment into flavor; rushed wine is vinegar. You don’t owe clarity to speed. You owe accuracy to yourself. Give information in measured doses and watch who stays when the Wi-Fi of you buffers.