Unaware telepaths. Your minds are easy to read. Predictably, you want what you can't have. Wanting, by definition requires lacking. The more obvious it becomes, the less of you I lack. The less I lack, the more of you I could fill, and you know it. How disappointing to realize that I never needed you in the first place. You stayed here, fully content in being the object of a desire. My attention meant something about you ⎯ not for you.
You are defined by the voids you sense in others. You don't know who you are, Phantoms of the Eye, shameful shapeshifters. I don't even think you are real. You cease to exist the very second you lose my interest. You are the tree that no one wants to hear fall. Your heart beats to the rhythm of my thoughts. I only now woke up to the fact that, in that manner, you were mine all along; an extension of what I thought would define me.
Blissful disappointments happen when you learn to fill the holes in your life by better versions of yourself. You'd be surprised by how much space you are able to occupy. Every time I grow, I shed a desire I used to have.
I often think of the lyrics : Never fuck someone you wouldn't want to be though. Now, the other way around, it would only make sense to say "Never desire to be someone that wants to fuck you." If they are drawn to you, you are doing something right. Moreover, I've come to realize the most desired people are often the ones who limit themselves the least. They are the ones who stopped defining themselves by the attention of others; they no longer desire it, they have it.
You have served that purpose for me. You taught me that words can only get you so far. You taught me that spells can only last so long and that attraction, magnetism, can only naturally happen between a positive and a negative.
I've got no use for another half, I'm already whole.