Unloved. That would be word for it. And it’s not like people don’t make their efforts to show me love, and I have no reasons to doubt them. What interest would anyone have in pretending to love? There might be some self righteous vibe to it, I supposed, but I don’t really see it. I see them as sincere. Still, I feel unloved. Perhaps there’s some distance between internal me and my reception of others. Perhaps it’s just the junk, or current-state-wise, lack of it.


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