Are you sought after, my dear?
Are you one to catch the eye of all those around you?
You're mysterious, yet vulnerable.
You are intimate, yet appropriately distant.
You're the perfect mate,
A catch worth catching.

Enthralling as you may be,
I'm left wondering...

Just when will it be my time to be the catch,
instead of the lonesome fisherman.

I am feeling so trapped inside my head.

How is it, that I am just that easy to read?
It took everything I had not to burst into tears when you tilted your head down, looked me in the eyes, and asked me if everything was truly alright.
It wasn't.
I am going to be so lost when you leave again...
I am scared I can't bear it, what will ground me when nobody will reach into the depths of my mind and pull me out?
I keep wondering just what it is the people around me see in me.
I can't tell if I am being admired, or pitied.
I wonder, do people see so easily through this shell of thick glasses and tootsie pops like you do?
Do they see my weakness and uncertainty?
Can they feel the strength and knowledge I have gathered over the years? Can they know my entire life in one glance, void of any judgment or prejudice
like you can?
Or am I just as much of a mystery as I wish I was?
Is it that I find solace in the solitude of my own mind?
No, I will not let all this hope I have worked so hard for go to **** in one measly night.
I can't.
It really, doesn't matter.
I am fine.
I'm just tired.

Really, I am alright.

Writing myself encouraging notes for the morning, knowing I'll need them to get through the day;
Is it crazy to talk to yourself in 3rd person through means of ink?
I've been finding myself more neurotic than usual.
Lists and notes help.
I swear it's not a self esteem issue,
I assure you of my confidence,
But I just cannot seem to figure out why it is I've sparked interest in so many intricate and spectacular people.
I've come upon so many outstanding friendships.
Sometimes, I'll admit, I forget to remember the vast support system I've found myself immersed in.
I have the ability to soar through the day, wearing a crooked smile, my personal notes in pockets, and friendship in my heart.
I must only remember not to forget.

Smile darling, it'll all be over soon.
You will move away, start over.
You will find a lover, to keep you warm at night.
You will fill the gap with glamorous people,
meaningless possessions.
Smile darling, you can seal your sorrow in mason jars.
Keep it safe, neatly tucked in the dark corners of your grandmother's storage room.
You can leave it behind whilst you travel.
Soon enough you'll be able
to breath.
No longer will it fester, eat at you in dark hours.
No longer will you feel everything around at high volumes and slow paces.
Smile darling, because you are living to die,
no longer are you dying to live.

I cannot remember who used to call me Darbels.
A dorky nickname, that somehow I adored.
I can her the voice faintly in the back of my head,
but I can't seem to figure out who it belongs to.
An old teacher, perhaps.
A childhood friend's father?
A good friend I once had?
It's driving me mad.
I am losing my mind,
and all I want
is for someone
someone
to just call me Darbels
again.

Sparse is the lure of a bourgeois creature.
Give me a chance to show you,
I am
anything
but.