I reach out, but there’s no one there.
I reach out, but there is nothing to touch.
I reach out, but my fingers encounter only the emptiness of air.
I reach out, but immediately draw back, not wanting to be hurt again.

And then I realize
All my reaching out is in vain.
All my wanting is hollow wanting.
All my yearning is a desperate hollow yearning.

For I have to attract friends to me.
I have to get people to want to know me.
I have to show people that I am interested in them.
And I have to like myself even before they will want to like me.

Then I realize that I can’t make people like me...
Particularly if I don’t honestly care about them first -
Or really like them – or even feel genuinely interested in them.
And I have to be happy with "me" before I can be happy with "them".

I have to accept myself. I have to accept who I am.
Then I have to like myself – just the person that’s me.
And then this "new me" can really reach out in friendship,
This "real me" can reach out and hold someone close to me.

So I reach out, and discover there is someone there.
I reach out, and there really is something real to touch.
I reach out, and my fingers encounter another’s concern.
I reach out, and hold someone who cares about me,
Because I care about them.