my isolation is self-inflicted… to a degree. i’ve had friends. i’ve gone out of my way to get to know people, to try and let them in. time and time again, it’s not gone well. at best, we’re good. we have fun. but it’s still disconnected. a love that isn’t worked on or worked towards. a love that remains on the surface, fragile, ready to break should we go any deeper.
that’s fine, to an extent. not everyone’s meant to go where i’m wanting to go. not everyone wants all-consuming mutual obsession lol. i know it’s a lot. i know i’m a lot, yet i feel like very little. i feel boring most of the time. nothing much to say, nothing that interests me besides maybe going for a walk by the water and watching the birds.
i know i’m neither the first nor the last to exist in this paradox. to feel both like i’m too much and not enough. i know there are many others out there. somehow, we never seem to find each other. we all continue to exist in this self-sentenced isolation, unable to see beyond and make our way into each others lives. or, intentionally holding back for fear of the repeated outcome that follows every attempt to get close to other human beings. after a while, it does get exhausting to even try. so we don’t.
at least, i don’t.
