Why Must I

Why must I come to you in sincerity and slander another person whom I regard as friend?
Is it not so that I might find validation in you telling me that my behaviors were rational, and that my friend’s were not?
Why must I complain to you about those in my life who challenge me or cause me difficulties?
Is it not a reflection of one of the many defective aspects of my character, in which I fear confronting them about it? Is it but another fault of mine to, instead, further burden you with these troubles of mine?
Why must I speak to you about strangers in a way that makes them seem like lowly insects crawling at our feet?
For am I not a stranger to those whom I walk about while I am alone? And what of me demanding your attention, in such a way, as to make you feel as though you must agree with my arrogance?
For in disagreement, silent or spoken, have I not now made you feel lonely while in my presence?
Why must I attempt to convince you, by any means and about anything, that you are indeed wrong? Yet, I generously allow myself to be seen, in unspoken deduction, as right.
For am I not seeking a similar validation as before, only now instead of being right where others were wrong, I want to be right and for you to be wrong.
Why, why must I exhaust myself in trying only to prove that I am so? For am I not good enough as I be?
Or, is it that my outward expression of selfishness is merely an attempt to convince the only one who needs convincing: me?
But what then must I try to convince myself of? Surely, it isn’t only this meager notion of being good enough, for what then is enough?
Or, is nothing ever enough? Am I to continuously seek to build myself up to a standard of infinity?
How sad of an existence I am destined then, desiring to be the best out of everyone that ever did, yet unable to believe the delusion that I am.
And you…
Poor you.
For you are one of few left who, walks with me despite my many shortcomings and my vain attempts to manipulate you.

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