june 12th 2024

i know others care much about me and feel a deep sense of empathy for my circumstances and my condition, showing me great kindnesses and an instinct to protect me from harm. but i worry whether people wish to spend time with me intimately, personally, outside of a wider group environment. i can’t say for sure if it’s true— i’m always speculating off the wrong evidence— but if it were, there’s nothing unkind about feeling that way. i’m easy with others around, but face-to-face with me is far more intense, often stifling. 

it’s only fault of my own— i do nothing to command respect for myself. i’m more or less a wounded animal who can’t stand on two legs for long enough to establish a real identity worth appreciation. little is likeable about me because “i” am no one, i am an amalgamation of social experiences and i am a secondary-source interpretation of a person. i can’t remember the last time i fostered an interest in something uniquely my own, not gathered from the arms of others— a way to prove i was kin. i mimic, steal language, practice and perform personality, make faces in my reflection until something relatable emerges from the curvatures. what can i do to invite attention without desperation? how can i prove that i’m good and interesting, or become that, first, if i haven’t been? everyone seems to have what i lack, to have the answer, but no one will say, thoughtfully fearing what they’ll inflict on me. i feel words spoken elsewhere, analyses unbeknownst to me, and i’d kill myself to hear them. but that’s not my choice. they’re not in mean spirit, i trust that. 

like anyone else i’m a subject. i don’t want that to be all that i am. i have to be better if i want people to want for me, to seek my presence. the whole thing is reciprocal: it’s my job to prove i love them just as much, to earn trust that i deserve rather than fashioning myself into someone i’m not. but i worry there’s nothing genuine that remains. what if everyone sees through me— what if there’s nothing i can repair? have i proven i’m unworthy? has my chance gone by?