Where did you come from?

You worked your way in too fast, and I wasn't ready. I wasn't prepared. I didn't know you were there, but I wasn't really paying attention either. I never do. And, then I got to know more about you, and it seemed the more I knew, the more I wanted to know. The more you were around, the more I wanted you there. The more I looked at you, the more I wanted to see.

How unfair. You've caught me completely unawares.

I'm envious of you, though. I'm envious of the fact that I know you can do so much better than me. I know that you probably should. And, while I'm undeserving, for you, I'm also unreserving. I have so much to give, in what feels like so little time.

Affection became an issue in my life, but it became more about rejection, an art I've perfected - somewhat unfortunately. Sometimes it seems I'm much more accomplished at pushing away than pulling in. But, it's because I don't want to be the one who didn't know, the one who was out of the loop, the one who didn't pick up on the signals. So, I pride myself on walking away - something I loathe but cannot quit.

It's strange, though. I go through the same thought patterns I always have. "I'm giving this entirely too much thought. I'm reading way too much into this. I'm getting attached much to early on." But it's the one good thing I can dwell on, where it doesn't make it seem like I'm at fault for something.

Narcissism? Sure. But in the other direction. The complete antithesis. The enemy. I've said it before: I need validation for existence.

I don't write because I hope you read.

I write because I need to think.

I hope that one day, you get homesick for me.