Admittedly, I’m not half as perceptive as I (like to) believe I am. Making up countless excuses and hypothetical scenarios, when the reason behind my reluctance to move on is obvious: I have the tendency to blame it all on myself. Whenever things don’t go as I hope they will, I assume I’m just not good enough. This, if you wish, is egoism turned against itself.
Auto-psychoanalysis through blogging? Well, why not?

Luckily, life keeps reminding me I’m not the centre of the universe. Each half-expected coincidence constitutes one more proof of my inability to control what’s going on around (and inside) me. Sometimes I get what I wish for, sometimes I don’t; often, this doesn’t really depend much on my actions or on how good I am.

So, I think that maybe –maybe- it wasn’t all in my head this time. For a short while, at least, it might have been mutual; a shared connection; something which doesn’t happen every day. And even if I overreacted a bit, it’s simply another one of my flaws. One that I’m almost ready to acknowledge, perhaps also accept.
The circle has closed, then. And there’s so much more to come.

Now, why would you be interested in my self-absorbed monologues? You probably aren’t. Yet this is my world of words and you’re
here as my guest. A purely imaginary figure I bring to life when I require a particular kind of audience. In other words, I can do -
and write- whatever I want.

Don’t misunderstand me, I’m talking about the fictional image of you. If the real you is here, too, it is only because you chose to. And you can’t even complain without confessing, right?
Which makes me smile a little. Totally unacceptable writer’s behaviour, but I couldn’t resist.