I “started” this blog back on December 31st, 2015 at about 11:50pm. I was lying in bed thinking about why the flurggin I wasn’t out at a club with a bottle on my lips, with friends, so that I could numb the bitterness of not having someone close to me. So, of course I did the next intuitive thing on my post-college, early yuppie mind and decided to give the whole online-catharsis thing a try.
But the way I’ve always written has been one of countless revision to get that perfect balance of syntax/style/diction/whatever. You know, like Hemingway. And that obviously led to my saying, “fuck it,” and closing the lid of my laptop at 2:02am on January 1st, 2016, having written all of 3 paragraphs.
I do still remember what I wanted to write about though. It was supposed to be a review of my year 2015.
I’ll do the dumbed down, unfiltered, and unedited-for-verbal-aesthetics version: first half was filled with frantic self-doubt of market value, because I was trying to find a job. The middle was internally a romantic augmented 4th chord, because I was beginning to the think that I really wasn’t a good match for my girlfriend, whom I had been so sure and fallen so deeply in love with; and the second half was filled with daily, barely held-back tears (the kind preteen girls write poetry about), because said girlfriend made the first move and broke up with me instead.
And through the awful, awful months that followed, I learned a lot about myself during nights where I felt like my innards were turning to stone. I say that not really in an attempt to be poetic, because that was the only way I could literally describe the physical sensation. Kind of like when I drink far too much whisky.
It’s weird. For a lot of college, I thought I was an introvert because sometimes I felt like I didn’t want to be around people. But I now realize it was just certain people, just the ones I wasn’t really comfortable around. Which is pretty how much most people are anyway (forget that whole “I’m an extroverted introvert” banaynay – is it so hard to just realize that we’re all on a spectrum?).
Now I’m pretty sure lean far on the side of being extroverted. I love it when I’m doing my own thing, but I hate doing it alone. For example, and you can ask any of my former roommates this, one of my favorite things to do when a bunch of people were over to hang out was to play some CS:GO, headset on and everything. I love to just read a book in my living room – as long as I’ve a friend or family member at the dining table or in the kitchen or just somewhere to give me the security of not being alone.
So with that being said, yeah… I’m pretty lonely living by myself.