All I've known Is that there is an end Then you can begin again

 Now, LOOK, I have unlimited storage on Flickr that I pay for, and, by God, am I going to use it.

I spend a considerable amount of time alone. Even when I am surrounded by other people, whether it be at Disneyland or on a crowded train, I am alone.  In the morning when I awaken, other than the cats, I am alone. I drink my coffee and eat my fruit alone. I get my work clothes on for the day, but the day cream on, brush my teeth, walk to the bus stop and wait there, all alone.

Now that I am back on transit in the evenings, I am reminded of the feeling of aloneness--but not loneliness-- that I knew for years and years. In March of 2020, the being alone all of the time was terrifying--there was no one to hear you scream. You were completely alone. It was you and a handful of people who were up to no good, and that was it. It was you, all alone, riding the trains alone and then walking to work alone, where nine times out of ten you were followed.

But very rarely do I feel lonely in the ways that other people feel lonely. 

I've spent most of my life alone. I was alone when I was being neglected as a small child with VHS babysitters. I was alone at school when I had no friends. I was alone when I walked home from school in high school. I was alone when I went for walks, when I took the bus two and from school. I have spent so much time alone, that being around other people actually makes me feel uncomfortable. I feel like instant messaging and being able to text and DM people at any time is the perfect amount of human interaction for me.

There are sometimes where I miss The Old Days where everyone all lived in the same place and all of us with our almost no money still managed to do things all together. There is part of me that misses the innocence before responsibilities. Sometimes I see a friend or two. Mostly I see Charlie these days, and we get up to some adventures, but that's about it. I only prioritize people who make an effort for me. 

But I also have to remind myself of why The Old Days are no more. I stopped being friends with people because they were mean. With some people, we grew apart. With others, growing apart was more sudden than I thought it would ever be, but I guess that they were more important to me than I was with me. I stopped sharing what was going on in my life with certain people because they kept trying to co-opt my trauma and then tell me I was the toxic one because I didn't want them comparing the incomparable. It's not that other people don't have things that are traumatic--I always try to meet people where they are. But I don't appreciate that people seem to latch onto me like a  trauma mascot the same way they do fictional characters like Éponine or some shit. The more time I have spent apart from this person, and how quickly I was no longer prioritized, the more I do not miss the friendship so much. Which is sad, of course, but there's no use dwelling on it. I don't have time to wallow on the things that cannot be helped. 

And if you're reading that, and it offends you, well, you didn't call me on my birthday or check in on me when I had Covid, so maybe fix your own fucking shit before you come at me? Just a thought!

I do miss the impulsivity of The Old Days. The impetuous texts or randomly just showing up at someone's house before we all had cellphones demanding that we all go on a food quest. I miss getting Little Lucca's sandwiches, and hanging out in San Bruno City park. I miss climbing the trees or hanging out near the tunnel that the creek comes out of that looks like a giant soup can large enough for us to stand in where we hung out that time we "ran away" to be Huck Finn and no one noticed. I miss singing in the gazebo, knowing that nothing romantic would ever happen to me there, even though that's what they were designed for. With Covid now, even nearly three years into it, much of the spur of the moment is neutered because there is no transit. I'd take myself to the parks if I could get there. I'd take myself to the parks if it weren't so dangerous to be alone.

As sad as I am at how quickly the world of impetuous texts or randomly just showing up at someone's house before we all had cellphones demanding that we all go on a food quest crumbled, I bear no ill will. Part of it is that I realize that I missed doing those things with other people rather than missing the people I did them with. I recognize that you do grow apart from people, and that it wasn't anything malicious that happened, we just went separate ways. The people that I do miss the most are the ones I talk to via FB DMs or texts every day anyway. I feel like they never left me. 

As for the ones that just faded away, we all seem to be doing fairly well without each other. It does make me a little sad that the friendships we said were solid and that were for life and could never be broken are exactly the ones that faded the fastest. Funny how that works. They faded so fast, and it's like they never existed. I get a little sad thinking about it sometimes, but, generally speaking, I am okay with it. Is that... bad?

I do miss my friends, I don't want it to come across as me not missing them. Those aren't the ones that faded away. I always feel like I care about people way more than they care about me, or they care about me more than I care about them, and there's never just a balance struck between how much we folks care about each other.

Maybe someday I will have a true best friend. What I wouldn't give for  reliving the halcyon days of yore via an impetuous text or randomly just showing up at someone's house as we did before we all had cellphones demanding that we go get Little Lucca's. 

Sigh.