The ebb and flow of life is often a distraction. I’m simple at heart, and therefore desire constancy. But the only constancy that is offered is the unpredictability of me. In the absence of knowing what awaits me at the next turn, I’ve tried to maintain my own disposition on an even keel. But I’m so easily distracted that I betray this composure within moments of achieving it.
Overtly I deny the need for affirmation, but internally I find ways to seek it out whilst appearing to be independent and aloof. I shy away from open praise but take joy from seeing wilful engagement that is unsolicited from others. I choose to see that as a reflection of my significance in the eyes of others, even though most only engage for the novelty value rather than a deeply ingrained sense of appreciation or gratitude.
My intensely introspective approach to life has made me somewhat of a novelty to the point where I don’t expect any sincere interaction, relationship or even friendship to extend beyond a few months. It generally takes a few months for someone to solicit all the insight they desire about themselves from me before it becomes a tedious exercise. Then, they either drift away from boredom, or they actively resist the revealing interactions because they begin to realise how vulnerable they are in front of me.
I’m a novelty on a shelf in a china shop. The shelf way up on top that is out of reach because I’m deemed too fragile for most to know how to handle me, but I provide an interesting, if not simply curious reflection of the one that beholds me. So occasionally there will be a brave adventurous soul, often troubled and seeking answers about themselves, catching the reflections that I cast, that reach out to take a closer look. But while I’m enjoying them looking at me, they’re in fact looking at themselves within me.