maybe I’m a masochist...

I need to stop clinging on to this. All I am now doing is clutching at straws and I wish I could just accept this and move on. I really wish you would show me no attention. Each time you do, the word 'maybe' comes back into play and I am sick of torturing myself with the thoughts of possibilities. Never have I been more confused by one person. I don't know how you've managed to gain this control, this control you quite clearly have which I still cannot admit to myself. God knows why I would follow you to the end of this Earth but the forces are all there. I don't even know why you stand out above the rest, why you are the first to be noticed, why your words weigh more than that of any other. All you ever do is make me insecure and aware of my inadequacy. You will ask me why I am afraid and why I hide from you. It is because I am not brave and I know I will always lack the courage I should have. It is because I am so helplessly average in every way, whilst you remain endlessly interesting and I am ugly through and through when you are charming and I am awkward and you are so ceaselessly endearing. And all in all much too good for me. I am so hopelessly boring that I could never give you the excitement and passion and perfection that you seek. I will let you down in the way I have done every other time because I am fickle and I am weak and indecisive. And it is you that makes me want to be everything that I am not, because you look for something I don't possess. You have always dreamed of something, someone far better than me. When my words bore you, when you ignore me, all I can do is to blame myself for not being interesting enough. I can give myself to others; I have more options than I could ever care for, but this lack of closure means that emotionally I can't do anything because I cannot completely eliminate the possibility of you. I'm sick of your reflective eyes forever staring into mine, tormenting me with their perfection. I'm sick of that captivating smile, there's nothing to beat it. I'm sick of everything I know I can never do and never be. Knowing that the one time I am certain of what I want, it is completely unattainable.