It’s ironic to me though, how she makes me feel seen and heard, yet is oblivious to how I yearn and covet. Sometimes I think myself a fool. I believe myself to be special when I am merely one of many. The things I wish were only for me are given to the masses. My soul and being hold no special place in her world, if it did, she wouldn’t do as she does.
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Sometimes I believe I have a thing, something special, like how I thought I had a phobia of unnaturally big things, but then I realized I was just scared of big things. It made me realize how small I am, how insignificant I truly am, I am small. The world is too vast, the universe is too vast, yet I still hope to be something, to be important.