somewhere inbetween

My brain skips days and I no longer believe in what I do, say, and write. I wonder who I really am. Am I intelligent or dull? Am I provocative or lazy? Am I attractive or ugly? Somewhere inbetween all of these, I'd guess. I know that I fear pity. I say that to say I never want you to pretend or to feel sorry for me. It's a barrier between deeper connection. See me as I am and I'll do the same for you. That's one thing I know I can do. Assumed pity makes me angry, but when I'm confident my pity turns to you. And it's not a bad thing. I only get upset if you get defensive. And I am defensive. So pity doesn't actually prevent deeper connection. It's my unwillingness to accept it. I prevent you from getting closer because I get anxious and self-conscious. It's a problem that I frame it as solely your choice. I have a choice in the matter, too. I almost feel like I'm lying to myself, but then I remember that you're only human, too. You may be smart and perceptive, but you also get insecure, and I am not doing anybody any favors when I forget that. I forget that beauty is often lost on itself. You need validation, too. You want a deeper connection, real admiration. I do admire you, but you see me as I am now. Emotionally stunted, it feels like. But I knew that already, I'm only worried about being open about it. I'd like to hide behind intellectual jargon or some abstract language, but I'm too tired for that, honestly. I feel like this is so obvious. Maybe it is, but I shouldn't punish myself for writing it down. It's endearing, I think. It's honest, at least. It's also a reminder. I get so caught up in motivations that I forget emotions. It makes every pair of eyes feel like an impenetrable dome. We all just want to smile, really. A genuine smile. I've been having trouble finding mine. It's with yours, I realize. It's not alone, it's contingent. That's different from being codependent. Smiles only matter when there's someone to share it with. That's my thesis.