Exclusion

I don’t have a fear of missing out, or at least not in the general way

My friends enjoying each other’s company is not malicious

There is no ill intent behind their gathering, their meeting is fleeting, but as a spur of the moment

I do fear, however, missing out in love – as dull and cliché as it sounds

The feeling of being understood when my mind seems to wage senseless wars

The idea that somebody looks at me and feels more than just lust

He wants to get to know me, and only me; his soul pursues mine in a context stronger than “like”

It’s unfortunate, but it’s true – I fear that I am too much, or I am too pushy, or that my baggage costs more than it’s worth to heal

So, no, when I see people enjoying life together, I do not fear that I have been excluded, or fear that my time is not worth sharing with them

I fear, more than almost anything, that my time is too much to share – I don’t deserve to be included in feelings stronger than lust because I carry too many extra bags.

It’s an irrational fear to be the boy I am – yet my war-ridden mind doesn’t seem to let the battle end, even when my heart has raised its white flag.