Removing the line of contact.
I had to to keep myself intact.
Knowing that she could see me
Always left me feeling exposed

At times, I wanted myself exposed
To her, In hopes that she would understand. She didn’t want to understand. She wanted to keep
A fascination alive, a feeling of what,
I will never know.

It is nice to be the object of someone else’s intrigue. I guess that is why I write. But when that fascination crosses boundaries and moves from the page to my real life, something has to give. So, I gave in.

I pulled the shades. No longer feeding her the information she so craved. The attention she needed that I was all too willing to supply.
My willingness has subsided.
I’ve aligned my thoughts and actions.
I’ve retreated into myself.
Put on a blacker sweater. Who’s the shadow, now?


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