Connection

I made a pact with myself. I made a pact with myself. I made a pact, that I wouldn't waste time on myself where it could be used to better myself. 

But then you texted me. You asked me out. But not like that. No, it's never like that with me. Always the other way round. But not that way either. It's neither that way nor the other. So which way is it? 

And this happens every weekend. Every pair of blue eyes that catch my hazel's interest - I jump, I throw everything to the side and leap across in the hope of, connection. 

But it's never there. Not really. Maybe after a drink or two you tell yourself that it comes up but it never does. It deceives you. It pulls you like a rope till you're all tangled up and you could've freed yourself but you refuse, that would be giving up. At least that's what you tell yourself. 

They say you chase. You're a predator. You're desperate. And perhaps that's true. All three. But what else is there to be? Successful? Fulfilled? Happy? All concepts, all concepts with no connection to the truth of what it is you want and what you strive for, what you crave in your belly your innate, connection to love. And is it so terrible to seek every opportunity that strikes you for a chance at it. A chance at connection? However false, however untrue, however unlikely? It's a connection. Or at least, it's an attempt. And that's all we have to hold on to while we wait to find the real deal, in the meantime.