a few days ago a friend of mine was playing a game, of sorts, as we talked. he was imagining what it would feel like to be me, judging by my posture, my comments, and my appearance, rather than projecting his reality onto me. (we both like to think and over-analyse, life is more fun when the little things become monstrous.)
so, what's it like to be me right now, then? i baited him with a certain degree of skepticism.
he paused for a moment, thinking.
for you, everything is fun, but it feels fragile at the same time, he said.
all i could do was sit there and smile, while trying very hard not to let tearful emotion get the better of me. he couldn't have defined it any more poetically.
unless he'd added one more syllable. then it would have been a haiku.