There’s something I want.
No matter how much I rack my head over it, I could arrive at only one, permissible answer. But mysteriously enough, it’s accompanied by an echo of ambiguity.
That’s why, I actually don’t have a tangible understanding of what it really is.
However, every time the words leave my lips, I break into a smile, overcome with the desire to hold my head from embarrassment.
To get a hold of this feeling, I tried thinking of numerous definitions that could be applied to our current relationship, but not a single one fit.
What’s the correct way to define it?
I have several candidates in mind, but while they seem accurate, they also seem misleading.
If even my definition is prone to errors, then what others thought of it would exacerbate those errors even more.
I won’t make the hopeful observation that those who were wrong should just face the same direction. It’s because it isn’t difficult to imagine that I would be the only one looking in the direction away from theirs.
I’ve been thinking ever since then, composing word after word that spring to mind all the while not verifying my thoughts.
Nothing but answers, all fleetingly wrong and whimsical, now and then.
I’d indefinitely play around with words in such a fashion, thinking about their meanings in both a positive and negative light, yet still be left with no clear, right answer.
Even so, there is something like an answer for us, so I decided to vaguely think of it as the right one.
I don’t mean that half-heartedly, because I’m thinking of it as a prerequisite for the answer that should see the most mutual agreement amongst us.
I want to believe that is genuine.
Because I can’t believe in anything else beyond that, or even in myself.
In truth, I was just being dependent on it.