I am a person, which means that I have feelings.

Just like you, I don’t like being watched like a zoo animal.

Is it because you admire the way I look?

It is because you are nervous to talk to me?

Or is it just because I look different than you do?

I can’t help but feel a bit uncomfortable when I lift my head and meet you eyes.

Sometimes I wish you would come over and talk to me.

But other times, I’m glad that you keep your distance.

Maybe I’m just being insecure and you’re not really looking at me.

I honestly don’t know.

I’m not scared, just nervous.

And anxious.

And paranoid.

Maybe there’s something on my face.

Maybe there’s something wrong with my face.

You don’t like my face?

That’s fine, I don’t either.

But I just wish you wouldn’t stare at me like that.

Because I am a person, which means I have feelings.

Just like you.

Sometimes I look at inanimate objects and wonder how they would feel if they could express emotion.

This keyboard that I’m typing on right now; does it want to be used in such a way?

Does this make it happy, or does it feel discouraged that it will only have one true purpose?

These are the things I think about sometimes.

Some may call it strange or ridiculous, but I call it sympathy.

I went to the store today.

While I was at the store, I saw a man standing in the cold foods isle. He was studying the contents of the fridge while his child was waiting in the cart. "I want waffles, Daddy," he explained. So I turned my eyes back to the man.

He opened the fridge slowly. He seemed to be reaching toward the waffles the child wanted, which caused the child to grin. But at the last second, as if changing his mind, the man reaches down toward the pancakes, causing the child's smile to drop. The man at the store knew what the child wanted and played with his emotions instead of adhering to his request.

I went to the store today, and it made me think of you.