I’m taking a break from the NaNoWriMo excerpts (I hope everyone is liking them by the way – feel free to leave me a message and tell me if whether they’re tickling your fancy) to go all philosophical. Sorry about that. 😉 NaNo will continue again tomorrow – sorry for the interruption from the regularly scheduled program.
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I wonder sometimes if I’m not made to be part of things. I’m a pretty personable person – I get along and play well with others, I smile and joke often. Sometimes I just feel like there’s something missing, some puzzle piece of personality that everyone else has.
An example – I’m at this conference and I haven’t really talked to anyone. I mean, I’ve traded a few words with some people sitting next to me and I’ve talked with my co-worker Matt when we’ve been at the general sessions and when a presenter asks you to discuss things in groups I turn and smile and contribute. But I’m not striking up conversations every second and no one is dying to chat me up in the hall. And I’m okay with that, but is that okay?
So I’m just a generally self-sustained person. I have enough people telling stories in my head that I could stare at a wall for hours and be thoroughly entertained. I don’t need to walk around the city alone, hopelessly worried about getting lost, to have a fun time. All I really need is me. The characters that have sprung forth from my head can provide endless hours of entertainment and do, all the time.
And even though people generally like me I think, probably see me as pretty mild and benign, I guess I have trouble connecting. I’m no good at networking (though pretty good at building working relationships – if we work together often, we’re good; if I’m holding on to your name for the possibility of needing you in the future, I’m pretty sure you won’t remember me at all). I’m just not memorable.
I swear I haven’t been flirted with in my life. People just don’t look at me in that way though I’m not sure in what way they do look at me. Maybe not at all. Maybe they can’t see me because everyone around me shines brighter and I pulse, softly, dully.
I’m not supposed to be worried about this. The fact that I haven’t for such a long time now means that I thought it was effectively tamped down but it rears its ugly head again. But I guess maybe it’s different this time. I’m not worried about finding my soul mate or the love of my life. I just want someone to see me, help me prove that I’m alive, that I’m more real and interesting than all the characters in my head.
People don’t smile at me when we pass in crowds. I’ve never caught anyone’s eye. I’ve never been asked for my number or email or anything else that gets passed around for such reasons. I just worry that as the year pass I’ll fade, pulse even slower, until the possibility of anyone notices dies. And I’ll still be here – completely entertaining myself but completely apart, never a part of things.
Is this the way it sometimes happens in the end?