precious isnt same as choosen¹

Is it wrong to wait, For someone who should be near? To hope they’d turn and share the weight Of thoughts they give elsewhere, not here? They say I’m precious — hold me high, But when the room is just us two, You guard your light, avert your sky, And leave me guessing what is true. It stings to see another know The laughter I’ve not even met. You bloom for them, let feelings show — To me, a script that’s half-forget. I’m not asking for confessions, Or to be your constant stage. Just to see your real impressions, Not the lines you prearrange. Is it something that I’ve done? A fault I missed, a door I closed? Or is the curse to care too much, To crave a soul not yet exposed? I’d hear your silence if it spoke, Or listen close to every sigh. But what’s the point if bridges broke, And you won’t even tell me why? I want to laugh, to speak unfiltered, Be someone you can’t wait to find. But when you make me feel so sheltered, It locks my voice inside my mind. I know you’d hear — if I began. But hearing’s not the same as *wanting*. I want your truth, not just a plan. The part of you that keeps on haunting.