I have a powerful imagination.

inside my head,

I know what’s going to happen before it happens.

I know how another person is going to respond to the things I do and say, before I do or say anything.

I know what other people are thinking and feeling, even if they never tell me… in body language or in stories or in words.

It feels so real, inside my head…

It seems so real that unless I am careful, I don’t even wonder if I might be wrong about things.

I am so sure of myself that I don’t even bother to ask you how you’re feeling, what you’re thinking. I don’t give you a chance to speak for yourself, and so I never have a chance to hear what you would say.

And this would be fine if I actually knew what you were thinking, but I don’t.

Not everybody thinks in the same way that I do, and so unless I listen to the way that you think, I am always going to be missing something.

Since I already know what’s going to happen, and I know it isn’t going to end well, I’ll just… bend space and time and matter around me to make damn sure that a sad future never comes true.

And this would be fine, too, if I could actually see into the future. That would be fucking useful.

Except that I can’t. I can’t know what is going to happen before it does.

I am usually wrong about things, even and especially when they make perfect sense inside my head. The inside of my head is hilariously devoid of context. My perceptions are distorted, and they’re always going to be.

I can’t know what is going to happen before it does.

I know this. Because even when I put everything I have into the abortion of sad endings, they usually happen anyway… even if they don’t happen in the way I expect. Sometimes one sad ending happens precisely because I was trying to stop a different one from coming true.

And so… I cannot read your mind, I cannot predict the future and I cannot predict how you are going to respond to the things I do and say.

And so I missing something, I am always missing something, unless I am able to bring myself to talk to other people. And that’s hard for me to do.

I am learning that I’m not a telepathic precog, but I am learning that the hard way.

For fuck’s sake, stay true to yourself and don’t pretend to be somebody else, because otherwise what is the point.

For fuck’s sake, don’t lie and pretend like you don’t care for somebody when you do. If you lie well enough, there’s a chance they might actually believe you.

And for fuck’s sake, kid, give the people around you a little credit. Let them surprise you with their kindness, especially when you don’t see it coming.

Listen to that feeling, the one that isn’t sure that you’re right to be worried. Listen well. And then go looking for those answers, when you’re ready.

There is so much potential for joy, and laughter, and understanding, and love. And it’s worth the risk of a sad ending to imagine that they might be there, even when you can’t see them.

It’s a Tuesday in September and I hope it’s a good stretch of time.