The negativity of involvement

I am a parasite. I cling on to practically anything and everything.

I'm actually a believer of what Naomi has been saying. I suck the energy out of everybody. Or, to be more accurate, I tire them with my hyperactivity. Three weeks into class and I managed to half my sleeping time and yet seem very preppy hours later, although I've started to crash and burn at the worst possible time. Sure, some people say that attribute of mine is a good thing, with all the efforts going to one thing, and an impeccable enthusiasm that even I, sometimes, cannot believe is coming from me.

The same goes for everything else. My enthusiasm for everything has gone to the point that everything I cling to gets, usually, well-enthused on. I don't know - it's not really a new thing to me, but somehow it's happened in a more pronounced way now. Or it's me thinking about it far too many times, but surely I've never been, well, this excited?

Infectious is an oft-used adjective. If used in positive contexts, people love infectious people. Meet one with an endlessly wide smile and a handshake whose giddiness is well-balanced, and the next thing you know, you can't prevent giggling to yourself at the mere thought. Get yourself in my position and you'll probably be surprised at how many people show up, tell me something, and leave me breathless for a second or so.

So, probably the best thing you could do is give that enthusiasm back. Respond, for instance! Just let them know you appreciate the gesture. Then you'll realize there was no gesture in the first place. Maybe, if fate is treated you in the most twisted way possible, you'll even know that they don't intend to do so in the first place. So what, you've just daydreamed all of it?

Aaaah. You've got a crush on someone!

I'm the type of guy who puts too big a premium on those gestures. Even worse, I'm the type of guy who puts too big a premium on coincidences. Although I only said once that it could be it - that, somehow, where your heart beats is where it is supposed to be - there have been far too many cues. Sure, I find that cute. I grew up watching escapist dross, and not understanding the concept of separating sensibilities, I took it as the truth. Even now. I still believe that signs point in the right direction, for there's no way, really, for anybody to just change them.

Lately, though, it's been conversations. Those mindless ones, in which you'll never know where it'll eventually end. I honestly cannot notice whether I'm already blushing for no apparent reason, because by then my enthusiasm has taken over me. I'm probably mesmerized at the number of words someone can say in a minute (and understand nevertheless), or the way someone's eyes roll when things almost go to the direction of a breakdown. Yes, I still notice those little things, all while trying to make some mind out of a mindless chat.

Enthusiasm then becomes the parasite, and I am the host.

But sooner or later you get a clearer view of things. The problem with me being enthusiastic is, it becomes very, very hard to let go. You can just imagine my reaction to things that I've somehow grown accustomed to being fond with. Once they disappear - better yet, once you realize that there wasn't any gesture to speak of at all - you actually end up going into a whirlpool. That's it. You've finally been consumed. In my case, I've finally let everything go, dropped to the ground, and sucked my right thumb, all while thinking (possibly in a perverted way, but that never happened) about all those illusions. It's the what-could-have-been game, and it's never played the same way twice.

And so was my realization today. In the past few days I've been growing a little bit too spunky for comfort - you know, starting conversations after dancing on a hot concrete surface, that kind of stuff - but I've nothing against it. It's just, well, very awkward. Not very friendly, but very awkward. Not infectious. Nothing's infected anything, at least positively. Maybe I'm smitten, but who knows? I've always been in such a way, probably to everyone else.

And yet I've nothing to offer. Well, sure, there's enthusiasm, and maybe there are the other things that only a few people know, but where would that get me? I don't think it's essential for one to tire the other. She has to live, after all. All of us have been taught the values of moderation - in everything, from alcohol, to stress, to smitten thoughts - and, thus, I become the extreme. Nothing matches.

Much more hurtful, maybe, is realizing that after all this time, you've simply wasted your enthusiasm on someone who won't even give a damn about it. Or maybe I feel abandoned as always, after seeing two hands teasingly glancing at each other, or maybe because you feel cheated again, because they actually knew about the enthusiasm, and give back the synthetic kind. It's as if you're being lured to the gold, only to be rid from it.

Then again, I am a parasite. I cling on to practically anything and everything. And if emotional support is all I asked for, then maybe I'll get it in fleeting doses, but nothing permanent. But I guess it starts with redefining what a "parasite" is, or ditching the title altogether. Who knows, maybe the next person I decide to hug becomes my world's next top model.

And your responses...

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