Gnossienne

I realized how insignificant I was when I knew that I would waste my whole entire life on trying to get close to someone else. I would die before I would ever know someone else. You're probably wondering how that could be possible. Am I some sort of recluse? A sociopath who cannot fathom another's emotions? Someone too afraid to open up to another person? Maybe I am just a person who chooses all the wrong people. None of those assumptions are correct. I've just come to accept that no matter how close I get to someone I would never know everything about them, never know their true thoughts. Not knowing what someone else is thinking... that's what makes this a story.