Oh, what a child I am. I had thought it would be fitting to frame that sentence with a 'was', but after rereading it I decided I was wrong. I've been mixing my pronouns, throwing adjectives in where they absolutely do not belong. Do you see what I mean? How naive of me to think of myself as anything more than exactly what I am: an unknown. How should I measure my intelligence? My maturity? The love I give, the thoughts I think, the respect I receive. None of these things can amount to a number or a rating on a scale.
I suppose it's just my age catching up with me again, I'm on that teeter totter of uncertainty, which is a funny way of saying I never quite know what I am searching for. I try and label things and display them in a tasteful way, when really they are all dirty and ugly. They are the mess ups, the mistakes, the 'did-I-say-that?'s. Look at me! How should I know what I want? Why should I be able to explain anything I am doing to anybody else? I am in no hurry, yet everything around me seems rushed.
One thing that I am quite sure of, nobody is going anywhere without anybody else. That said, I feel alone in a room full of people. I don't know why I can't shake that feeling, it's plagued me for quite some time now. Although I love many people and I'd like to think that many people love me in return, there is this continual thought in the back of my mind that in every situation I will still end up alone. And no matter how many hundreds of tears roll down my cheek or how many thousands of paragraphs I write in explanation of them, I never feel any different. Don't call it an attachment issue, don't call it bipolar disorder, don't call it anything, rather let me explain it to you. It's like this: going to bed with the shades drawn and waking up to them wide open, never knowing how they got that way or how long they will stay that way. It's also like this: getting dressed in the morning, only to end up naked by midday standing in the middle of traffic wondering where your pants went and how they got away from you so quickly. And at times it can be like this: following a complete stranger from their house to their workplace to their favorite place for lunch and back home, only to have them turn around a block from their apartment door, look you in the eyes, and realize you were never a stranger at all.
It's actually kind of funny if you think about it. Then you think about it some more and realize it's the least funny thing in the world, and you were wrong all along.
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