I am seeking something that no one can give me.
Yet I keep trying to obtain that missing link from man.
From man or from a man.
A man or any man.
Any man that never knows that I am using them to find something.
So without that knowledge they work in their own interests.
Their interests which are not always mine.
My interests don’t seem to matter. At least not to me.
What I seek is never found.
The man doesn’t know the difference.
But I know.
I know that my lack of openness is why he left.
I know that my lack of concern is why he left.
I know that my lack of enthusiasm is why he left.
I know that my lack of spontaneity is why he left.
I know that my lack of willingness is why he left.
My lack of expression is why he left.
But what else he didn’t know, what I never told.
I sought him to bring out something in me.
I sought him to fill a void. 
I sought him to make up what I think I am lacking.
I sought him to open me up.
I sought him to give what I couldn’t.
I sought him to get what I can’t.
I sought him to find… to complete… to please… me.
But maybe that is where I went wrong.
Maybe I should have told him why I sought him?
Maybe I should have told him what his purpose was?
Or maybe what I am seeking can only be found in me.