I remember when I was a kid I would walk up to someone and say hi and we were friends. I was always shy as a kid. I was the “fake it until you make it kid”. I would pretend away my nerves until they disappeared. My mom told me I had to force myself so I did. In middle school -after living in a really small town- it got really hard.
There was one kid that saved me though. I won’t ever forget this because it meant a lot to me. I was sitting alone during lunch, people avoided my table, no one came to sit with me, but he yells at me from another table “what are you doing alone? Come eat with us.” That kid saved me then. I still remember his name. There’s no one to save adult you though.
As an adult, I’ve found it harder and harder to relate. It’s much harder to fake anything at all, faking things is exhausting anyway. It’s much harder to find people that “have time for friends”. It’s hard to find people that want to be real friends and not just drinking buddies. I’m an addict and an alcoholic. I can’t do that with you and I don’t want to watch other people do it haha.
I want human connection and conversation. I’m dying for it. I want a best friend. I want to have anyone to hang out with at all. Someone that wants to be around me. Someone that enjoys my company or enjoys my conversation. Someone besides my wife and kids, who’s love and admiration is automatic. And though I adore them and I’m grateful for them, if I’m honest, it isn’t enough. I hate that it isn’t. The guilt of that is so strong I can taste it. Why do I need more?
They say it’s lonely at the top (I wouldn’t know), but it’s even lonelier at the bottom. No one wants to be at the bottom with you.