There's no good solution or else go-getter me would've chosen it already

I.

Precarious state of cynical defeat: endurance feels like balance on a tight rope that becomes more precarious the further I must continue on it.

We experience two types of spaces:

1. Acceptance is the norm—rejection is the exception.

2. Rejection is the norm—acceptance is the exception.

And it is precisely "rejection is the norm, acceptance is the exception" in the current space I have chosen, that has become the cause of my cynical defeat, the feeling that no matter how hard I try—this is not it. Extroversion and enthusiasm can only be put into full effect and brought to their full potential when they are given the chance to, when they are received. I feel like my current space is not my place.

II.

When I needed someone, You weren’t there. I am the one who got myself through this year. I was the one who cried myself to sleep; the one who gave myself a hug, who patted myself on the back to soothe myself. I was the one who gently ran my hand down my chest, like a mother to her child. I was the one there for me. I was the one who, in a lullaby voice, gently, quietly, comforted myself, “It’s going to be ok; you’ll be ok.”

I was the one who mustered up courage to re-present myself, the one who set my posture to walk with assuredness, gritting my teeth on my worth and bearing on my muscles to be confidently myself, to not shrink based on reception. I am the one who puts myself back together, no matter how defeated and rejected.

But You, I don’t know what to say to You. I don’t know how to be with You. And You’re just watching, and You’re just watching me.