(no subject)
I don't think it's about not wanting friends. I mean, I think I really enjoy having friends and feeling a genuine connection with them. Maybe I really am just an introvert... I don't know. Maybe, I haven't really gotten over the fear of losing people yet despite what I had previously thought. Maybe I'm just having a really hard time reeling in from the whole Jenna thing... And losing Lawrence...
But when I feel really drained and tired from being around people, I always feel so disproportionately horrible that I almost believe I would much rather be perpetually friendless. People are very difficult and overwhelming when they are difficult and overwhelming, but sometimes, it's much worse when they aren't. I think about the things I've said, I think about the things said to me, what I did, what I didn't do and maybe should have done, things I shouldn't have said, the mistakes I made in conversation like forgetting a word mid-sentence, I wonder if I'd said rude and hurtful things, or if I had sent the unintentional rudeness... It's endless, really. Endless and horrible and an energy-sapping black hole of a vortex.
I'm currently at Daniel and Fern's house. Laying on couch cushions lined up on the floor after we just hung out for Daniel's 32nd birthday. We had some paralyzers, watched a movie called Two Guns, and ate actually gross Chinese food. I can't help but feel a sense of urgency with these things... Maybe because of Lawrence' death, I've been thinking more morbidly with regards to the lifespan of things... I'm not sure. Maybe it's more a reflection of the state of things. Or maybe a reflection on myself. I really don't know...
I'm just floating in limbo land feeling very lost. Sometimes, I find myself in a much deeper conversation with Steve than I intended to have and end up not knowing where I wanted to go with the words that I said.
Do I want him to comfort me, agree with me, or maybe l debate me so I could think beyond my scope? I want him to understand me, I think. Usually though, it's like he doesn't really get where I'm coming from at all, but then again maybe I just was never so sure myself.
There's a canyon between me and where I want to be and I see no means to cross. It's not malcontent feelings... I realize how lucky I am. It's a sense of futility that no amount of therapy could erase. No amount of talking could fix. Only a miracle could change my fate... And everyone knows, miracles have always been on short supply...