New Year, Same Me part 1

While everyone who is inclined to is diving head first into the resolutions, determinations, or fresh starts a new year brings, I am stretching my end-of-year brooding. I'm telling myself it is okay because I didn't stay home on New Year's Eve like I should have to think my thoughts and rearrange the furniture in my head so things could feel new simply because I moved them around. I depressed, unpressed, repressed, I'm just pressed. I'm irritable and keep turning away from writing because I'm annoyed with the words that aren't there when I finally have time to write them. I'm frustrated because many of the things I want to be different in my life are within my control to address or change. This morning it occurred to me that if I lost the ability to walk, I would wish I had run more. Even though I don't like running. I feel despairingly confident that I will not marry, will not have kids, will not even entertain a significant love interest for the rest of my days. Sometimes I hope those days will be short. And then I am convicted by the virtual eulogy in my head of my many wasted days. Days spent in exhausting battle with myself. Days I couldn't or wouldn't believe IBC could be interested in me. All the days I handed over that kind of power to someone else, all the situations I couldn't reliably assess because I was so inwardly directed, so consumed with protection of my fragile sense of self (worth).

And I'm starting to realize that perhaps I'm not really built for relationships because my first inclination is to bounce. Peace out, asshole(s), I'm out. I was looking for a job when I came to work here, I'm not trying to chase people to be friends with, you hurt me and I think that must mean every good thing about us is false. I know I would be spending my adulthood in a group home if emotional retardation was considered a disability. I wasn't really sad and listless enough so I decided to read e-mails from the guy tonight. I found this in an e-mail to my brother during that period which was the thick of the longest drawn out dissolution of a relationship ever;

After all the good advice I gave you I slipped on some stupid and wrote him. Nothing emotional or weepy. I didn't even indicate that I felt one way or another about him or us. But his reply was classic and he asked if he could call me. Well, I said yes. I haven't heard from him since. Kind of bugs me. Of course now everyone I haven't talked to in weeks is calling and I'm getting solicitious e-mails instead of an e-mail from him. I just wrote to whine and hopefully serve as an example of what not to do. Don't indulge that curiosity, it's not curiosity, it's Darwinism and it qualifies you for an award.