Someone once told me that it is hard for people who live in a frame to see themselves from outside of it. For me, it is even more difficult, and I am under the impression at times that I am being misunderstood. People have been upset with me before, even going on the attack, because they see things a certain way, and, depending on their disposition or personality, come to a conclusion early on without doing any unbiased digging.
The person I love has let me go over time, and I’m not supposed to have anything to do with her, even look at anything related to her. I care about and have feelings for her, and because of those feelings she doesn’t want me around. I feel like it is my duty to be there for her, but I’m not allowed to be. After all this time, I’m supposed to pretend that nothing happened, like I haven’t felt something meaningful.
This connection has meant more for me than for her, so I’m the keeper of all that has been tied up in this. There are no second chances, no form of intimacy and growing closer, no hope. There’s loss. Rejection. Uncertainty. My feelings for her have been certain and good-intentioned; yet they’re judged differently through other eyes. I am too deprived of connection and warmth.