I can’t say I’m tired of feeling on the outside. I can’t say I’m sick of feeling like an alien. I don’t know what the opposite of that feels like. You can’t miss what you’ve never had.
I can say I’m sick of feeling like I deserve it. I’m tired of feeling responsible. Like there’s some little trick. Some life hack. If only I could find it. You’d let me in.
“You’re just not sending the right signals.”
“You have to smile more.”
“You just gotta put yourself out there.”
“Well of course no one talks to you. Do you talk to them?”
I’d make a joke about resting bitch face. But I’m tired of the bitch narrative.
The signals are arbitrary. I can’t control the muscles in my face like you. I’m as out there as I can physically bare to be. Your circular logic is not amusing. I’m tired of my humanity being held hostage to your demands.
I’m here dammit. Let me in.