I have always been somewhat introverted. I made mention in a previous post that, for the most part, I enjoy my alone time. That does not mean I like loneliness, it means that the moments of solitude that I do have, I relish in. It feels right, comfortable, like I can breathe when the rest of the time I feel tied up in anxiety about what people think about me. Do they like me? Am I coming on too strongly? Should I tone it down? I really like this person, but the fear of rejection is far outweighing a possible connection. Also, in a earlier post, I shared how I relate to “I Am A Rock” by Simon & Garfunkel. How the words reach deep within me and strike some unnamed chord.
This past week I have truly wondered whether I have the potential to make and keep up friendships. It comes so easy for people to stay in contact, but it is a struggle for me. And it’s not because I do not want to talk to people, or set up social outings to see these people, but the more I look at the situations, the more I delve into my psyche and try to discover the ticking time-bombs that are my past relationships and friendships, the more I realize that I tend to approach things with a certain distance. It’s easier for me to not be emotionally involved and step into a situation thinking with a more businesslike manner than that of someone really hoping to make a meaningful connection. And fear drives it. I fear confrontation. I fear rejection. I fear “the dismissal.” Because somehow it always becomes so personal to me. And again, I think that’s because I approach things with distance, and when a person’s feelings are not reciprocated to their liking (because this, in essence, is how my shyness comes across, as this bitchy, proud attitude, though I am anything but proud, and do not intend the bitchy quality) they back away. But then it produces a massive perpetuating circle where they pull away, I get sad, upset, depressed that once again I have lost a potential connection and pull away further, which then causes the other person to simply disappear.
And then the reverse. There are the times when I feel intrigued, fascinated, and determined to make sure the person knows that yes, I do like you, I do want a friendship with you, you are cool and you have made me smile more times in the last twenty-fours than I have in the past twenty-four days, and I come on too strong. I want to make sure that my unavailable vibe does not appear and screw everything up. The vacancy sign is on, there is room for a friendship, if not more, and I would love to work with you to build up that relationship. But then I think I reek of desperation. And then I wonder why I can’t just make a fucking long-term friend? I can never find that middle ground. And apparently I do a piss poor job of every other part of relationships, too.
I am single. And for the first time in years and years and years, I feel freedom in being single. I once tried to explain my fear of definitions (especially now) with an idea mentioned in Sex and the City. Samantha once said, “You can never be someone’s ex-girlfriend if you are never someone’s girlfriend.” And that’s true. But I also do not want to have casual flings. I am a relationship girl. In essence, even if I do not want the title, I will behave as such: support them, nurture their ideas and beliefs and passions, try to make them happy when they are sad, buy them gifts on their birthday, listen to them when they’ve had a bad day, etc. All things girlfriends do and how they behave towards their significant others. And the same goes for friendships (minus the not-wanting-a-defining-title). Sometimes I cannot make it to a birthday, or respond to a phone call or text message with expedited efficiency, but that does not mean I am not going to be there when the times are really bad, or if you need advice. So why do people believe I am being a bitch or distant? Yet, when I do respond or make sure I come to important events and am there, physically, as much as I can, people define me as overbearing and annoying. Or maybe that is how I view how THEY would view me. Either way, I feel like I am in a no-win situation. I feel helpless. And I wonder if it’s all worth it. And the more I think on it, the more I conclude that it’s not worth this emotional upheaval. Seriously self-doubting my ability to keep friendships because no matter which path I take I push people away. Maybe I should continue with my air of bitchiness and the people who deign to pass through my barrier are the only ones worth it. I just know that I cannot continue to feel like I am the annoying kid sister that no one wants around because she spoils the fun.
I know I have a few true friends. They have been my sisters and brothers through this chaotic point in my life. I am finding out that it is well worth it to have a handful, or less, of deep, meaningful relationships than to have a litany of names that will disappear in an instant.