All of the "How to make friends" books tell you never to let on that you are alone and friendless. There are a couple of good reasons for this.
There are human animals who prey on such women. Admitting such a thing is far more dangerous than you would think.
Another good reason is that it's practically like telling the person you just French kissed that you got a call from the AIDS clinic and have to go downtown tomorrow to find out about your results.
In short, you'll meet people you don't really want to meet and you'll chase away those you might have wanted to get to know.
Still.
I have been so lonely all week. It's been like a rock inside my chest. I can feel it bang from one side to the other as I walk and move. Tears are just one wayward thought away.
The phone didn't ring all week. Only emails passing along jokes to me and twenty people I don't know. Going to work on Saturday was a relief. So was going to see "The Dark Knight" on Sunday morning. I realized that yesterday, I spoke four words to a human being: "One for Batman, please".
I seem to be especially susceptible to the side effects of the new blood pressure medication I'm taking, and one of them is depression. I have an appointment with Dr. Lavender coming up, but I don't want to go. Last time, I went in all chirpy and happy and I came out with a black cloud over my head. Why would I want to go back for more of that?
It's funny, but a couple of years after I divorced Xman, I started thinking about dating again. I thought I still had something to offer someone. When I thought about who that someone was, the first thing I thought (above the obvious no cocaine, no hitting, etc. etc.) was, well, he has to have a big family that gets together a lot. I don't even care if he has grown kids.
Anonymous Boyfriend wanted me to have no part of his day to day life and for that matter, wanted none to do with mine. For some reason, I would take him around to whatever office I was temping at. I would drive him around and absurdly point out things. "Oh - that's my dry cleaner... My favorite ice cream place... Best pancakes...My library." As if he would care. As if I would see whatever things equated in his life. He had siblings. He had nieces and nephews. One of the 'rents was still kicking. I doubt if any of them even knew of my existence.
The last run I had at having friends was in a writing group in 1996 or so. It morphed and became a boys' club and that was the end of that. Before then... well, I really don't want to think about it.
I went to high school with a girl named Alice Hayes. She was known to be a foil for Robin Highsmith's beauty. Alice was chubby, always smiling and laughing and even when Robin wasn't around, people seemed to flock around her and laugh at her jokes. I wondered often why I couldn't be like Alice.
Some gene got switched in me. Some chemical tripwire didn't do what it was supposed to do. I wasn't brought up as much as I was left to bring myself up. I never learned this, whatever it is.
But I'm lonely. And I comfort myself with kitties. But I would be so glad to hear my man (whoever he is) walk into my kitchen and have him say, "John and Donna want to go to the diner for dinner. You in?" Or ... well.
That's just ridiculous.
4 comments:
I don't know if it is any consolation, but nobody likes me either. Seriously, it is dead hard for me to make friends. I have exactly 3 female friends that are constants, and they all live too far away to have to deal with me on a daily basis, and are not reliable for day to day bonding. Prior to meeting Santa I really was alone. No parents, siblings who have nothing to do with me nor I with them for lengthy reasons that I won't type out and post on your blog, and no kids, my choice. Basically no one local who gives a damn if I am dead or alive.
When Santa came along he brought a huge family with him, his kids, his siblings, and about a million cousins. I am family now, but I suspect that if Santa were no longer around, they would drop me like a hot potato. If Santa dies or divorces me I will be back to square one; dead alone in the world.
I really have no idea what it is that has caused this in my life, I used to have buckets of friends when I was college aged. Perhaps I have become too caustic and don't realize it. Perhaps I have a raging case of BO and don't know it.
I do understand your pain.
I know a lot of people, but I'm close to none. The people I know mostly live an hour or more away. Locally, there's only Piper that I could call on if I need assistance. Daughter and The Man are long distance relationships, and I suspect both of them like it that way. We're not involved in each other's day-to-day lives. There's a sister in Florida, but that's a once-a-month email, and a once-every-few-years visit.
Every once in a while I wish I had a female friend or two or three close by that I could ram around with - mostly I think like that when I end up going to the county fair or town festivals alone, and it doesn't last long because I realize that while I'm at the fair, I can go where I want, spend as much time looking at a cow or a quilt as I want, and there's no one at my elbow getting antsy. And then I remember how much work it is to keep up friendships, how intrusive they can be, how much work and potential pain. (Example: First Woman, my poisonous "psycho ex-girlfriend", as The Man refers to her.)
And you know what? I'm actually quite content with things as they are. It doesn't bother me. Being unattached means freedom. I am good company for myself, I'm happy with me. I'm not bored or lonely. Maybe it could be nice if things were different, but they're not, and that's fine.
It may be all in the way you look at it.
I thought of you - us - today when everyone else went out to lunch and no one invited me.
SJ - I have Emma, when she isn't mad as a hatter, 1500 miles away. RCW and I aren't as close as we were a long time ago (now there's a girl with friends and a social life). I also grok completely the 'If hubby goes, I'm thrown out, too.'
Silk - Yes, I remember now, it's been quite a while since you've spoken of FW. I know, too, what you mean about liking your freedom. Really, 95% of the time, I'm fine with this for the reasons you give. But when I'm not, it hurts like hell.
Queen - Speaking of hurting like hell...yeah, the group lunch uninvite is painful.
This morning, well, it's a new day. And I don't understand why four such fabulous women don't have calendars crammed full of lunches and dinners and GNOs.
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