This introvert is having a hard time being alone right now. I’m craving time with close friends – close friends that are too far away to spend time with. I’m craving time with someone that I don’t have – someone that I’ve been waiting for for a very long time (and continue to wait for…as patiently as possible). I’m craving answers to questions that I can’t even ask – answers that are not the answers I want and are stupid. I’m craving reassurance for myself – a self that I have built up carefully and guarded even more carefully until recently and that is being torn down quickly.
I told you that I was tired. And I am. I’m tired of losing the game. The game of life. The game of dating. The game of the chase. The game of the politics of employment.
I don’t dislike games – not inherently. And I don’t even dislike losing – not inherently.
What I dislike is the disheartened feeling when it feels like all you’re doing is losing. What I dislike is the tired feeling when you’ve been trying your best and you’re not having any fun at all. What I dislike is the way that I can’t wrap my head around any of it and I want it all to just go away.
I allow myself to write things on this blog not knowing who reads it. I am not entirely anonymous and I know that I have friends and family that (at least) occasionally read this blog. It is not hidden. It is not private. It is mine. My thoughts, my feelings, my insecurities. My life.
But I fear that I am often too rash here. I fear that I write things that maybe I shouldn’t. That by writing these things, I am pushing myself even farther away from winning the game.
I wrote something earlier this month that I want to share. In my frustration with a couple of my current situations, I spilled words onto the screen (as opposed to spilling them onto paper) and I really liked them. And they are extremely true for me. And despite how it may seem, they are not just about dating. They are about more. And they are my words. The words that are not making me feel better because they feel like they are more true.
I’m beginning to think that my optimism and high hopes are going to be my downfall. That is what I wrote a while ago. And I still think it’s true. I am so optimistic about so many things. About life. About love. About friendships. About work. About writing. And my hopes get so high – so very high. And then reality crashes into them and crushes me. And depresses me – sometimes. I have such a vivid imagination that it is hard to remember that other people need more time. And I process things so differently that it makes it hard for me to relate to “real” people sometimes.
These words also remind me of a pin that I saw on Pinterest today. The pin said something about “The smarter the girl the harder it is to find the right man.” And I’d like to think that I’m smart. But am I really so smart that I can’t find the right guy? Or am I being too picky?
I’m tired. I’m tired of losing the game. Of life. Of employment. Of friendship. And, yes, of dating. I need a break. But I don’t see one coming any time soon. And honestly, all I really want to do right now is to take my time and travel between friends – to see everyone and write something that will matter to someone besides me.
This post is careening into rough territory, but it’s honest and truthful and something I think a lot of people can relate to. And I’m working on being better about things. About not letting things I can’t control affect me.
And someday soon – maybe – I will start winning the game again. Until then, I will keep doing the best I can.