This is compelling. For a while, I believed writing may have been a little unnecessary - returning to my original opinion of literary voyeurism, maybe even prostitution. That I was perhaps deluding myself. But maybe this is being written for your thoughts too.

I’m coming to realise that may not necessarily be so bad.

From somewhere, life and experience merged and returned to their former states. Somewhere, something changed, and for a few simple moments, everything was right. Everything was as it should be. It’s an indescribable moment, but at that specific point in time, clarity reigned and was completing. But, yet again, inevitability proved to be precisely that.

Unfortunately, inevitability could have been redefined. Of that fact, I am certain.

You come to realise your true position in the life of another through actions, not thoughts or utterances. Often, things which don’t happen illustrate intent more accurately, than those which do. When I know something to be wrong, everything stops. But when someone is aware of your own limits, your own desperate search for knowledge or reassurance, and finds occupation with anything else in substitute, it is truly crushing.

I cannot comprehend how the sole individual I am bearing myself open for, is so oblivious of my emotion. There comes a time when the only remaining assumptions are those of their own blistering awkwardness and indecision. Or that they just no longer care. Assumptions only exacerbated in the knowledge that the chance of wholesome communication, is excused for any other preoccupation. When does it begin to jeopardise potential reality?

More importantly, how is a ‘connection’, ‘chemistry’, the compulsion drawing you to another, possible to establish by proxy with whomever, but not on the stage of realism? That should even be “re-establish”.
Certainty cannot emerge unless the process is entered into. And that, is something which time, and mind, may not permit.

Naivety and indecision haunt. At the most basic level it is naivety and indecision which threaten to, and have, most likely, undermined a chance of pure happiness and content. Nothing else. Nothing more. A duel of simplicity.

But ironically, simplicitymatures.
At least even now, I can laugh at that.