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The unknowability of people
Really irks me today

I apologise to someone,and get no reply back. Maybe the sms didn’t reach you, maybe you were too busy to reply. Maybe in your mind, all is well, and there is no need to say anything more. I don’t really know you and you don’t really know me…Is there any point spending time wondering about this?

You’ve known me since I was born, so you think you know who I still am, two years after I’ve moved out. You think you can explain everything. The mathematical rationalisation I use to explain myself doesn’t help, because you turn into a bouncing ball, you throw yourself to the floor and rocket upwards, shooting past my eyes, I can’t catch you now, you’re a blur.

There are days when you tell me that I’m normal and that I like to pretend I have issues because I’m a spoilt brat.
Then there are days when you say I’m sick, I always have been, and when it finally catches up to me, I’ll rot till my death.
If only you could make up your mind – mixed metaphors give me nausea, and anxiety’s tough enough to deal with.

But let’s not give illnesses names, that way we’d have to admit there really was something wrong.

You want to know my secrets but the more I try to explain the more you raise your voice and stir that spoon because you know recipies better than you know my heart. And you know what, I think that’s okay. You don’t leave me the time to explain everything. And I can’t offer answers in a 30 second presentation. Or vacuum-sealed and pre-washed in a recyclable bag.

Keep your misinterpretations, if that’s the closest you can get to me. Every time I try to change things, all we achieve is more pain.

I think you read my heart the other night. That’s what the fright we both got was, maybe. The thing is, I battle to read your heart, so it’s difficult to know for sure.

There have been moments when this strange light hits your eyes, and your arms move over me like I belong to you. Even when I know you know that I don’t belong to you. Then you toughen up again, coat your soul with muscles, and swig from that glass, in a shining embodiment of masculinity.
Maybe it was just the light from the cinema.
I just don’t know, I don’t know.

But the other night, I think you saw all the light in me, I think your mind built buildings made of pieces of you and me (not us), and you figured something out, something you weren’t hoping for…and you got scared.
‘Kissing Catches’ is an incredibly intelligent game, it’s no wonder little girls love it. The easiest way to make a boy run away is to show him affection.
But I’m not afraid – neither of you, nor of the truth.
I dare you to stick around.

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