flustered

I say I want to feel seen
But as soon as someone looks at me
• I turn away
• I avoid eye contact
• I pretend I didn’t see
Because I can’t imagine that someone would actually be looking,
And looking to pay attention.

And so, to me,
• they weren’t
• they didn’t
• they couldn’t have been

My face burns from embarrassment at the thought of being seen
or is it the embarrassment that I am enjoying it, that I crave it, that I need it?
the heat of the floodlights of someone else’s eyes ignites my cheeks
Because that’s horrendously, unreasonably, selfish to want to have my existence confirmed by a secondary party.

I need to see them seeing me,
With my own eyes,
Just to be sure.

But if they see me seeing them seeing me,
Then it all cancels out again.

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