Thursday, April 3, 2014

A little venting about being alone again

I don't trust my own judgement with respect to what I want.  I think maybe I just don't know.  I'm not sure I've ever gotten something I wanted.  I don't recall ever having something where I felt happiness that lasted beyond a distraction.  The longest happiness I recall feeling is about a week long.  I have things that I've collected.  Things in my house.  Things I think I'd be distraught to lose.  But the saying about your things owning you is true here.  I cling to them.  I am anchored to them.  And while I feel comfort with these things, I don't feel happy.  I'm not living the life I want to be living.

One of the aspects of my life I feel like I'm missing out on is companionship.  I'm single.  I have been for a lot of years.  I've lived alone.  For a year I even wasn't working a full time job... I was alone in my house far too much.  I'm worried that it damaged me somehow.  I'm worried that I don't know how to be with people... I'm worried I don't know how to let someone be part of my life.  But I think I want that.  I think I want to meet someone.  I have this "sense" in my mind that when I am in a relationship with this person I want to meet, that I'll come home from work feeling weary and then just seeing her will be enough to make me smile a real smile.  I'll feel happy just to see her.  We'll talk, and laugh, and relax, and hold hands while we sit on the couch and watch a show we both enjoy.  I feel like I really want to be with someone, but as I said in the first sentence: I don't trust my own judgement.

In that year I spent not working, I tried to start my own company.  I did so... it technically exists.  But I didn't finish the product I had in mind... it's still sitting there 75% of the way done.  I thought I really wanted to have my own company... to not go back to a cubicle job working for someone else.  I still think I want that compared to sitting in that cube... but I didn't try like a person who really wants something.  I've tried writing novels.  I've tried getting myself into a regular exercise routine to get in shape.  But all these things I think I want to accomplish don't come to pass.  I don't work for them.  I give up and fall into my normal routine.  I find the comforting things I know, and I just pass time.  I'm not sure what I'm hoping will happen as time passes.  But things aren't going to change unless I change them.  And I just keep avoiding changing things.

And there's a feeling I associate with this realization I have when I don't do the things I want to do.  The things I think I want to do.  It's in my chest.  And it feels so empty.  My breathing changes, and I can feel tears start to build.  I think I'm scared.

The reason I'm thinking about this, and writing about it, is because of someone I think I'm interested in.  I've known her for a little while... well... as well as you can know a bartender... as well as she let me know her.  We get along well enough.  We sometimes chat for a while, and it's nice.  I've been interested for a long time, but she was in a relationship.  Past tense.  I've been going to that restaurant/bar for a while now, and they know me there.  Tonight I happened to go with a couple friends, and we didn't sit at the bar.  Our waiter knows me, and knows I'm interested in Meg.  He made a point of telling me that Meg is single now.  It dominated my thoughts for the rest of the night.  It's still on my mind.  And I feel that empty feeling again.

I could have talked to her.  But I got scared, and I didn't.  And my uncertainty about what I want comes into play here too.  I'm finding arguments against talking to her.  I know she smokes, and I really don't like the smell of cigarettes.  So I find myself trying to argue my way out of just talking to her... so I don't feel as bad when I don't talk to her.  I can try to believe that it wouldn't have worked out anyway.  This happens really any time I feel like I might meet someone and have hope it'll turn into something more.  I get scared; I talk myself out of it; And I go home feeling empty.

I don't want to be alone anymore.  It's painful.  But I don't seem to be doing the things I'd need to do to change that.