i write about you, i do. i write for you, too. i care what you think. i care so much. i want to impress you. show off. i want to excite you.
i write to get things out, it’s enticing writing for strangers. for friends, too. knowing my thoughts aren’t just my thoughts anymore. i put them into the world, release them away from me. because sometimes i don’t like them in my head. i think too much to keep them all there. there isn’t enough space. talking isn’t a strong suit. not about this. this is new to me. i’ve never been here before, not really.
i desperately hoped you’d never notice. and now I’m sabotaging it for myself. eugh. of course. it’s what i do. who i am. why i write. ridiculous. but evocative. exciting.
there are so many people i care to impress. friends that mean so much. that give so much. advice, love, hope through the chaos. i just do what i know how to do. all those people in my life who mean so much, i wish i could give it all back tenfold.
it’s about you in so many ways. but it’s about me too.