Ouchy...

Have you ever had what you thought was meaningful contact with someone over a period of time, and then suddenly - like a cold, clammy hand landed on your throat - wondered if they even ever actually liked you?

Even people I don't like can't 'not like me'. It drives my obsessive little mind absolutely mad.

I've recently had an experience that has left me with a bit of a welt. It's a metaphorical welt ... I mean I wasn't back-handed or anything ... but there is a mark, for sure. I suspect it won't leave permanent scar tissue, but anticipate a lengthy recovery, none the less.

Even by-standers are shocked by this turn of events. By-standers that have a stake in my having no  such association. 

Shocked.

I'm very honestly replaying scenes in my mind ... looking for clues. 

Proof.

Of what, you ask? 

That an experience meant something?

I have a terrible habit of looking for meaning in everything... I really wish I would outgrow that particular naivete already.

It makes me ashamed... every time I am duped.

Not sure if you knew this about me, but I am super good at shame. I don't need any further experience with it. I've long since filled my quota of a lifetime.

This behavior leaves my soft little under-bits exposed to molestation.

... how can you not even like me?

... and why do I let it matter to me so much?

... and why don't you like me?

*sighs*

I will say this much and then with any luck, nothing more: 

Nobody will ever make me feel this paltry again.