friends in strange places

I have trouble making friends.

I have trouble keeping friends.

But I’ve been… fortunate, lucky, blessed–whatever you would call it–to be making new friends. In unexpected places. I recently made a new friend while doing some freelance stuff. On the other hand, I’ve neglected my other friends. I don’t know why. I know it’s not “cool” to do that. To those friends who read this blog, I’m sorry. Really, I am. I promise to rectify things between us.

Socializing is hard. Maybe for everybody. I imagine there aren’t many people for which it comes naturally. But it’s especially difficult for an introvert. (I talked a little about this in a previous blog post.) Oddly, sadly, horribly, this struggle can apply even to my friends. Some understand this. Others don’t.

Maybe I’m a jerk for it.

I was just telling a buddy today that, although I’m not happy right now, I’m as close to it as I’ve been in a while. Some things are going pretty well. I’m writing and developing. I am socializing… just perhaps not everywhere I ought to be. I’m even losing weight, which astonishes me more than anyone. These are all very good things. Sometimes it feels like my life’s on hold, but that’s not always a bad thing. Maybe it’s the Chicago Cubs fan in me. It’s a rebuilding year, right? (It always seems to be a rebuilding year for them.) I want to believe that I’m rebuilding myself, and I’ve been doing it from the ground up. I need a lot of work, too. There are issues that run to the core I’ve wrestled with for years–or worse, ignored for years. So much scar tissue.

There are… many things I want to share. Words spilling out of me like a broken spigot, except I wouldn’t know how to turn it off. Stuff would tumble out: water, dreck, rust, who knows. Ugly things. Shameful things. Repugnant things. Things I desperately hope to keep locked away, maybe forever, at least until I can figure out how to face them and overcome them. I wonder, do I disappoint?

Today I tried to repair things with someone, a friend, a potential… something. I made a bad choice, a stupid choice. I knew what the right one was, but I didn’t make it. I didn’t know how, was afraid of what might happen next.

F*cking introvert issues.

I don’t know what’s going to happen now. Will she accept my apology? Probably. Will she give me another chance? I don’t know, and I can’t say that I deserve one. But I’ll hope for it, anyway.

Small steps. One friendship at a time. And hope they’ll still be there.


no one is going to love you

There’s an expression… goes something along the lines of “how can anyone love you if you don’t love yourself?” I’ve heard it before, been told it, seen it told to others. I have never believed it.

Until now. I wonder now.

My dating life has been more active the last few months than it’s been for years. And… well. I’m still single. Because of choices I’ve consciously made. Yes, I’ve chosen to stay single. It feels better this way, for now, which stymied me for a while because I’ve been somewhat vocal about feeling too alone lately. And it’s true–I am alone. My friends, the ones I can count on, live out of state. And until this past summer, I was dateless for years.

It seems I like being alone, however.

What does this have to do with that expression I mentioned earlier? I don’t understand why any of the women I’ve gone on a date with lately wanted to go on a date with me. I’ve examined myself, outwardly and inwardly, and asked what it is that attracted them. I’m still not sure. Then again, I don’t really know what draws a woman. In a way, though, I’m not sure I love myself. Because I don’t know what it is about me that’s worthwhile. Maybe it’s ultimately irrelevant. But I wonder now about that expression. Because I let each of those potential relationships wither. I made that decision.

On the other hand. I don’t feel unhappy about being alone anymore. I don’t regret my recent actions. I do… feel somewhat bad about unintentionally wasting these women’s time. But it appears the dating pool isn’t for me. Maybe it’s not the right time. Maybe I haven’t met the right woman. Maybe there’s something wrong with me. It could be all of those things.

Or it could be that I need to love myself. Whatever that means.