you lied,
right?
so, why?
if I do sit here,
and study your lines;
I see glimes of you.
maybe I wasn't insane after all.
so humour me,
if you do see,
all I ask is why?
I don't get it.
surely it's not as bad as it seems,
enlighten me.
I spent so much of my life behind a broken camera; I am those fragments of shattered glass held together in a lens. The silent observer, cracking under pressure. The one preserving everyone else’s memories while slowly disappearing from my own. My impact was always in capturing moments I was never truly part of.
I stood on the sidelines long enough to mistake invisibility for peace... and maybe that’s why being chosen matters so much to me.
Not chosen the way kids pick teams in school - reluctantly when there are no better options left. I don’t want to be someone’s backup plan, or a person valued only for a service I can provide. I want to know what it feels like to be picked first. to be essential to the game; instead of sitting quietly on the bench, pretending I don’t mind that I'm an afterthought.
Because throughout every version of love and connection I’ve experienced, nobody truly showed up for me in the ways that mattered most. Not consistently, and certainly not unconditionally.
I thought I knew what I was chasing. I kept running after attention and validation so that I could welcome in some loose from of closeness - hoping that if I gave enough, watched enough, loved enough, someone would finally turn around and do the same for me.
but that's not how it works. that's not reality.
So I started choosing myself.
but, I also chose you...
I don’t want to beg to be noticed anymore. I want someone to try for me.
I want someone to pursue me with intention. To learn me without me having to perform first. To watch me the way I watch everyone else. I want to be seen without having to earn visibility through usefulness.
and so maybe learning my worth begins here:
understanding that love should not feel like auditioning for a role I already deserve to have
I am not just the observer. I am not just the person behind the scenes.I am not disposable, replaceable, or forgettable.
I deserve to take up space in the frame too.
and if you can't see that, then I will not chase you.
I will sit on that bench and wait,
wait untill someone chooses to see me.
*insert some excuse to see you - outside of rooms I find you in
something in me tells me that there is something there. I can sometimes see it. I can feel you turning, and a slight shift in gaze.
That's a lot of ‘some’.
I doubt myself, that it's a work of fiction in my mind. miss understanding a normal amount of human body language interaction. genuinely.
I'm scared of you?
and you're scared of me?
Am I completely misreading that?
you never instigate anything.
so maybe it's not good for me. if I have an obsession with you, that's unconsensual, and my actions make you uncomfortable.
That's a moral thing.
also swag gap, why would you be interested in me.
Why do I think there's very little to enjoy about me?
anyway. someone said that you were scared of women. and I don't know what level of joke that was.
I cannot be around you if I'm being delusional. it's not good for me.
… but, the energy - there's something there.
I'm confused and it's overwhelming me. It's self-inflicted.
So what is my move? What's the right one? what won't fuck it up…
I hate this.
That's why I pull back. It's self preservation.
I feel weak.
and that pisses me off and I wish I didn't care.
with distance I will forget.
because you don't ask me questions
I am mad at myself for letting me feel the things I do. so I chose to forget you. soon I'll be gone. and soon you won't even remember me. so why waste time thinking about what could be?
maybe I'm confused, maybe I have not had someone like you in my life before. with so little words, holing so much weight. you feel so familiar. but is that's just me projecting an idea on to you? if so, I am sorry.
I unpacked my memory box (not a metaphor) and held object that I haven't touched in years. I cryed. which is somewhat of a regular occurrence for me. it contained alot more than I remember. usually I just chuck stuff in, but this time I was forced to sit with it. tracing my life with my fingers. it was overwhelming. so many memories of a past life. some parts I miss, some parts bought me sorrow. there was two things that were related to you. I shall cherish them, even if they were things a normal person should throw in the bin lol.
I hold on to alot of stuff, I'm sentimental like that. and that goes for my what I hold in my head. it's a blessing and a curse. I've been sorting though it recently. actually feeling. understanding the difference between good and bad. it's actually quite sad. how little good I have been given. the trinkets that I've kept are things I've picked up. I've not been offered much, so I take what I can get.
I am mad at myself for feeling the way I do because it brings me back to that concept. the idea that I give too much of myself away. I am not mad at you. I never could be. you are blissful unaware. I'm just mad because I did it again. I put my eggs in a basket that will taken away. obviously I can't control how I feel. it is what it is. so maybe this is self lothing??
I'm glad I met you. you have changed my life I'm more ways I can express. i am just sad I have to let you go. well, let go of the idea of you that I delusionally made up in my head - or maybe it was true, honestly idk but the memories of you are fact. so I'll leave it at that.
honestly I could go on and on. but why waste words, when I will be easily forgetten.
you were in my head far too much - both versions of you - suck to my mind like glue.
The last time I saw you, really saw you with my own eyes, I wasn’t myself. I’d been anxious for a while, but if I’m honest, you threw me off too. I didn’t know how to act, what version of me I was supposed to be. and somehow, you hurt me? I’m not even sure how to explain that properly, but I felt unwanted. I feel guilty even saying that; frustrated with myself for feeling disappointed over something so pathetic. I laugh in hindsight because of how much it got to me.
since then, I think I’ve been avoiding you without meaning to. It feels like it’s been ages - it's not, but my days feel too long. I miss meeting your eyes. I’ve been busy (you’d understand that) but there’s also this fear. because if I see you again, I know I’ll pretend. I’ll play the version of me that’s completely fine, untouched by any of it. and I don't like playing that character, I really hate it actually. but if if stick to what I know are the facts, it's necessary.
and then there’s the other version of you - the one that lived in my head, born from reading between the lines. that one’s faded too. I still don’t know if I was wrong, or insane for seeing things the way I did. It honestly scared me, how much space you took up in my mind. you became a kind of breaking point - a good one.
I quit one of my vices. It’s been hard. the days feel foggy sometimes, but I’m sleeping better now. I’m dreaming again. and my god do I love to dream. every so often, you’re there too - strange versions of you, shaped by my mind that’s still trying to stay present.
I’ve been creating a lot, these last few days, more than I ever have. and it’s… kind of beautiful. one of my goals this year was to make something I’m actually proud of, which isn’t easy when your self-esteem fights you at every turn. but creating has given my mind somewhere to go. It feels lighter. I think about you less, which I know is a good thing. I’m still confused, but I’ve been turning inward more gently and processing. reframing things in a way that isn’t so heavy.
I cannot lie - I’m overwhelmed, and I probably will burn out when it’s all done. but I’ll know it meant something. that it was worth it. and when all of finishes, you’ll see what I’ve made.
as of right now? I’m so tired. and sad. I just want to hug someone. and neither of the people in my vicinity like hugs (also it would be incrediblely awkward lol) so instead I cry my tired tears, while I stare at my computer screen, wishing you could come stick to me.
both versions of you have disappeared. I wonder where you’ve gone, and where you’ll be next. I wish this was simpler than it is.
but I do miss you. both sides of you.
until I see you next,
a slightly too conscious potato x