I feel sad again. Just because I am convinced that the love I have been looking for does not exist. People may love you with all they have, just not the way you want. I’ve never in my life, met a person that asked me questions about myself. Except one. But he’s dead anyway. When you tell a story, people ask questions if they are interested in what you have to say. I always ask details and questions because I am curious about the experience that person had when they were in the situation. It could be meaningless, or just a simply story. But I still want to know, because I care. Because when I listen, I really listen. I digest every single word into my brain as if I have to remember due to a quiz the following day. But, I listen to what I want to listen. If I am not intrigued, its like you are not even there. I have something better to think about as you ramble on about something that is not going to help me obtain information about yourself. I want to know everything about you. So I could really love you for you.

I hope someday someone feels that way about me too.