I lie to myself. Pretending I don’t care whether anything happens or not. That it’s ok if no reaction ensues. But that is a lie, and it is an outrageous one. I feel that there are inklings of moments at the questionable juncture of wayward emotions where nothing matters more than something coming through. A yes. A no. Any word would do. Like you, I am desperate for an echo, a result or a reverberation. I want an outcome. Something that supports my sterile sense of dimension and that allows me to keep drifting on this feeling. This feeling outside of life that at times feels like the only thing keeping me afloat. I know it is but a reflection that bears no resemblance to whatever I need. But wanting and needing are often unrelated and it turns out I need my wants as much as I need my needs. Some of these wants are underpinned with reality. Others are wanton and highly delusive. I’d settle for confirmation