The New Mess

Inspired by Danny and a need for an outlet... and not wanting to return to the depressing mess that was my old blog. Here's the new mess:

Lately I've been thinking about my social life It's never been a big issue or a high priority for me At least not in high school. But I've noticed in the last few weeks and this one especially that my social life has moved itself to the computer. I don't hear people's voices anymore. What does that say about me?

My conversations and interactions have still been lovely - sometimes funny, or thought-provoking, or just for the purpose of good company. But I am staring at words all day. I have to create my own interpretation of what someone is saying. Find the sarcasm, seriousness, and truth. Nothing replaces face to face conversations. Tangibility adds so much. My favorite way to talk to most people is lying next to them, staring at the sky or ceiling.

Now, instead, I'm staring at a screen. I do stuff around the house all day waiting for a window to open, and for someone to walk into my cyber world. It's a little depressing.

Of course, this could all just be because I don't know what I'm doing with my summer and I feel like it's not in my control. I know that's not true, but it feels like other people have been deciding my fate lately. I need to get out. I need a change.

People are complicated. Relationships are even more complicated, even if they seem or start out simple. Why do I make things so hard though? For the last year I have been creating relationships that are doomed to fail, or will require so much work, and now... I have this relationship I was so excited about two months ago. But I'm pushing the affection away. And I keep looking for someone else. And what bugs me most is that I don't understand why.

Questions keep arising without answers. I don't know why I've become the person that I am, who I never expected to be. I've always known what I wanted, and I feel like I still do. But I don't know me, the person who wants it.

Recently some relationships have come (and some have gone) without me knowing why or how. I look back on a collection of random meetings and wonder, "When was that me?" Is that still me now? I have no regrets, just questions and complicated relationships and desires I don't understand.