I tend to get "too" into people's diaries, maybe that's not exactly what I mean, but I worry about people a lot. I hope that Sherilyn finds a job quickly, that Illara's move goes well, that Marron can be happy and proud, that Zoë can see beyond the present darkness.
Is there a point to caring about them? I have varying degrees of contact with them despite the often extreme distance, and yet, I have the feeling that I'm looking for someone, or something amongst them. They all share my own affliction, so maybe I'm searching for shards of myself in amongst all the diverse pieces? I thought I knew myself, I thought my internal journey of discovery was complete? Although I like to help people, I know it's not why they attract me in this mysterious fashion.
An analogy: Before Allison left, she drew a picture of me. She gave it to me, and since then it has captivated me. It's not narcissism, more… fascination. Perhaps I still have trouble realizing fully both my external and internal transformation, and my search is amongst other people's drawings and pictures in search of enlightenment. For an answer to a question which perhaps words can't frame.