Some of my loneliness comes from how much of me stays in draft form around other people

Dear Delyara, Not fully hidden. Not fully spoken. Draft form. A version of me that is close enough to the real one to pass, but still not the full text. A little safer, more composed, less needy, less sharp, less exact. I think I have lived inside that mode for so long that it can almost feel natural. But it leaves a residue. A sense of incompletion after social contact, as if the exchange happened one degree away from the truth. That residue is lonely. Because part of me knows exactly what didn’t make it into the room.