liking.

I want his life. I want to be liked by him. I want to learn about myself until it is too late to catch him. I want to experience his world touching mine.

Strange. I do not like the idea of being with him as much, as I like the idea of learning something I cannot otherwise. Is it a sin? I do not know. It certainly fill like one.

But he may never like me. Me “me”, I mean. Slow, shy, awkward and odd. The girl that walks around leaving strange ideas in places nobody wants them.

I feel guilty for crushing so badly into his posed identity. He knows it. I know he does. I know he likes it. But what is the right way out?

I am going to pretend I am indifferent next time. At least, that way I will get the talk. It is nice to remind the self that the posed identity works more often the it seems it should. It just hurts seeing other people crushing into me and walking away with disappointment. Sadly enough, they often do.

Maybe, I should do the opposite. Maybe, I should build the self with dreams and desires, nurture it. I should grow it, make it strong enough to withstand all crushes.

Who are you, Claryam?

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