It’s ten past 8 on a Saturday evening and I am sitting in
bed at home, alone. I have a glass of port beside me and my laptop on my lap,
my smartphone within reach and am relatively content.
Except if I am completely honest, the one word in that
paragraph that causes me the most discontent is ‘alone’.
In some ways I am extremely introverted: I don’t like crowds
or people constantly hovering, I read everything I can get my hands on –
whether it is good or not, I don’t like talking on the phone to strangers or
being chatted up in bars, I’m a home body – spending more time here at home
than out and about… usually.
You see I also have extroverted tendencies: a tendency to
call attention to myself, I’m loud, enjoy being the centre of attention on the occasions
I chose to put myself there and can talk the ear off a donkey.
I am social awkward, but have an overwhelming need to be
liked. I’m independent to a fault and don’t ask for help unless I absolutely
need it in my personal life, yet will drop everything to help an acquaintance I
barely know if they ask.
I like to stand out and don’t like to follow the pack when
it comes to fashion, often feeling really confident and like I look great when
I get dressed in the morning, but depending on the reactions I get during they
day I can easily become anxious and certain that everyone is laughing at me or
judging me as the day passes. I have even gone shopping on a break, immediately
changing into something more sedate just because of an off the cuff comment
from someone that I have perceived as negative.
I don’t have a lot of close friends, and one thing I have
discovered as I have got older, is that the level of friendship I may prescribe
to the relationship I have with someone, is not necessarily reciprocated. I
have many acquaintances, people who may say hi to me in the street, but wouldn’t
invite to me a party they were throwing. People I would invite to my birthday,
but who wouldn’t even think to invite me to after work drinks. This isn’t a judgment on them, this is just
me learning about social interaction.
Since I moved to Wellington two years ago I made what I
would consider three close, reciprocal friendships with women. In June of this
year, two of those friends moved to opposite ends of Canada within a week of
each other. The third is currently in Canada
visiting friends and family. It wasn’t until she went on her trip that the loss
of the first two hit me like a ton of bricks.
Between the three of them I at least had someone to talk to
when I was feeling happy/sad/crushing on someone/having trouble at work. Yes I
can email them, yes I can even call them… and I am going to Vancouver in 3
weeks and will be staying with one, but it’s not the same.
I can’t have a mid-week picnic in the botanic gardens the
day before pay day with the coins from our piggy banks buying us a bottle of
wine and raiding the cupboards supplying us with a feast. No more being dragged
on tramps and hikes and bush walks, usually when I’m stupidly hungover with my
super-fit friend who always manages to push me harder than I think I can go. I
still have brunch dates and karaoke here and a shoulder if I need it, and I’ll
forever be grateful for that.
I get attached to people easily, both in friendships and
relationships. I know this, I recognise this, but it doesn’t make it any easier
to stop it from happening. It is something I struggle with and something I am
trying to work on, but I don’t really know how too when it comes down to me interpreting
others intentions towards me.
I wish I could get the phrase “She (or He) is just not that
into you” out of my head, but unfortunately it seems to ring true, both in
friendships and in anything more. I try not to expect too much from other
people, just respect and honesty, but sometimes I guess that is too hard.
Or it isn’t about the other person at all and I am just
expecting too much… I just don’t know.
And tonight, that is making me sad.
