Sometimes I hate that I notice everything, because the tiniest gesture can spiral into a thousand “what ifs.”

And here’s the funny part: I don’t even know if I want answers. 🤯 I think part of me enjoys the uncertainty, the thrill of trying to read people without the safety net of clarity. Maybe I like the chase for understanding more than the understanding itself.

But it’s exhausting. 😔 I feel like I’m always two steps ahead or three steps behind, trying to decode what everyone else treats casually. And I wonder: is it curiosity, paranoia, or just a refusal to settle for surface-level connections?

Still, I can’t help but smile at the chaos it brings. 🌪️ Maybe noticing these subtleties is a gift, or maybe it’s a curse—but either way, it makes life feel alive. And the question that keeps me awake at night is simple: am I reading too much into people, or are the