Sad chords

I've got this song in my mind, and it plays through when I am thinking about him. Right now, I don't have to imagine, because as soon as I started to type it began to play. Portable music is both a joy and an opportunity for masochism. I am not good with rejection.

I have been told many things about myself, from the banal to the intriguing. I have had my star chart read, and my soul examined. I was not surprised, but fascinated, as my personality was written by the alignment of planets and constellations. Perhaps that is enough of a guide for me. I have been told in the past day that I am intense, strange, lovely and elegant. That is off the top of my head. Meeting people reminds us of how much of ourselves we retain no matter how hard we may try to appear different. Me? I have stopped trying. The question "who are you" has become one I love to pull on people, to really ask who. We don't stop to think about who we really are, and when he asked me I shucked off my practiced response.

Who am I? Right now? This instant? I am someone who believes in the good in people. I am someone who is easily disappointed. I am someone who feels let down. I am someone who misses my friends who understand me, but wonder if we ever truly understand another person. I am someone who wants to be held, but only by someone stronger than me. He pointed out how difficult it would be for me to find someone who could do that. I felt flattered and strange, this man who hardly knows me and can still cut right to my core. Being here has perhaps made me a bit odd, a bit romantic, a bit of a dreamer and more than a little thoughtful. Language is fascinating. And alas, my time is ticking. I'm back off to class then.