What is it when you’re stuck in a pattern of unsuccessful connection? When you get yourself through a frozen, tough stretch, when you get to yes, I need people, and I know I need to step forward and dial numbers and hit send, but the people aren’t there? When you’re voicemailing hard, trying not to sound too eager, like hi (voice cracking, the almost cry), I’m, uh, hi… and you’re both pretending you don’t know they hit decline on your call. What is it when your every call is returned with a text? When you do talk, what is it when you feel them leave before they go? The flipping to another screen? You sense the pull of the game, the twitter feed looming. The better thing in another room. You know why they don’t stick around because you’re trying to get yourself out of this, too; it hurts to stay open on the single screen of yourself. But you want someone, you need someone, and not the someones who bark at you at work. What is that? You can’t say hey, stay here, please? because do you even know what you want besides a person more patient than you? This feels like poor aim. Like being a freshman in high school, like not knowing how to stand in your own jeans. Like your sweatshirt is hitting you at the wrong places when you try to talk, and your skin is erupting with the awkwardness inside.