Extraterrestrial

I am solitary in the universe, there is one like me. 

I never believed in reincarnation but the only explanation for my current predicament, trapped on this blue sphere, is divine retribution for past sins. 

Each day I try to learn more about them. My mission has no clear parameters, so I learn all that I can. But there is far too much, they are far too much. Too large, too small, too anything. 

As a rule, human beings generally don’t like me. 

Which is fair. The truth is, I don’t particularly care for most of them either.

I don’t understand them. I don’t know why they talk and behave and think and sing and dance and cry and argue the way they do. 

Human beings generally dislike me, I generally dislike them. 

However there is a magnetism.

I crave them, I live for them, I breathe for them.

They are in my bones and my blood and every strand of my hair 

And I want them 

And I want them to want me

Desperately

Hopelessly 

Madly 

I want to be loved. 

I wear my disguise. 

I do my best to talk like them, to use language as a tool. Words are power. But they are ever morphing and changing and I am caught behind

I behave as they do. I laugh at the correct places in the script, I say my lines perfectly, I smile and nod and I am silent when it is not my turn to rule the stage. But it isn’t organic enough.

I find myself wondering what they would do, why would they do it? But the thoughts don’t come 

I sing and dance in bars and clubs and restaurants across the world, and yet I do not truly understand their purpose.

But I cry. 

I cry far more often than I used to.

That much I understand. 

And I can’t argue.

Because there is no one to argue with. 

And I cry again because loneliness should not be powerful enough to make me wish I had humans to argue with at the very least. 

I’m tired of trying. 

I don’t understand human beings. But I want them.

And they don’t want me. 

I am solitary in the universe, there is one like me. And I will live and die this way.