I crave the connection,
the flutters of indecision
which increase the heart rate
and throw logic to the ground.
I crave the jitters of anticipation,
the need to meet unset expectations
which cause such self doubt
and uneasy pacing all around.
I crave that empathy,
the girls’ night out,
which pulls us together
and weaves together the common thread.
But the connection remains severed,
the jitters a myth,
the empathy hollow,
and despite my efforts
I pine over no one.
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