Gentlemen and Gentlewomen of the Vox Chaotica Council! [Editor's Note: (spoilers) this is not a short post. It's basically just a text post, and it can read a bit like I'm whining about my lame problems. What I'm actually going for is more of a context thing—I say what I do because you need context around the way my thoughts form and how they work.]
If all goes well, this will be a relatively short post—but we all know how much I enjoy stringing words together, especially when there's no one to tell me to stop. Maybe it's best then to just start with the basics.
I think a lot. Like, probably too much. Maybe it's because I was terminally shy until age 19 and never really learned to make my voice heard; or maybe it's because listening was always more enjoyable for someone whose words did not flow eloquently, ever; or maybe it's because I prefer to be alone. But thinking usually makes me melancholy, and so I try and fill my plentiful alone time with things to distract me from my thoughts (hello, videogame addiction). Unfortunately, there is no easy-to-spot, singular root cause for why I get sad after wandering in my on head for a while—but often the byproduct becomes thoughts of my friends, and how I could be better for them.
[Side note: if this didn't already exist, an apology song to all my friends would be my ideal way to communicate how I feel with my friends.]
Now, I'm sure normal humans would probably just tell their friends how they wish they were in better contact or try and meet up sometime and just talk about things. However, I am me, and in case you're new here, the one thing I am definitely not is normal. Talking to people face to face is still a problem spot [Editor's note: that's putting it kindly], and forget about displaying genuine sentimentality to my friends—there are only two or three people I'm actually comfortable talking to earnestly, and even then it's only once or twice a year that I feel safe enough to open up. In my defense, I'm sure ~normal~ people also only have a few people they really trust enough to be absolutely genuine with—and my introvert tendencies do not allow me the mental, emotional, or social stamina to build meaningful relationships by brute-forcing the appropriate number of hours (on the Scale of Cutter Videan's Most Terrifying Circumstances, social gatherings are a 9 between 1 and BEES).
Anyway, I think I'm getting off track. *calls a crane to lift the train of thought back onto the rails* That's better. Thinking leads me to sadness, and often that leads to me wishing I could just spill all my sentimental thoughts about my friends to them. But I never do—the emotional risk is too steep. And, contrary to common belief, just because I prefer being alone does not mean I am exempt from a constant burden of loneliness or a deep sense that I don't really fit in anywhere, or with anyone. Barring all that, what could I even say to them—how could I possibly express the raw emotions I feel whenever I think about them? the ridiculously intricate system that weighs all my positive and negative notions about someone and finds them to be someone I am willing to devote time and energy to? the real meaning of our friendship to me? Human communication systems are too flawed yet to accurately describe the depth and intricacy of these concepts.
Okay. Let's all take a deep breath together. In... ...Out. It got pretty heavy there for a minute, yeah? We just experienced a tiny little fragment of what it's like to be in my head. It's always bustling in there, and this whole thread would account for maybe a couple seconds of real-time thought—jammed between four or five other ideas about the nature of the world, how attractive that girl over there is, what am I going to blog about, and how weird it is that thumbs look the way they do.
The chain of thought about being a better friend always pops up during holiday celebrations; perhaps because I'm socially bound to be social at the aforementioned holiday celebrations, and time spent with other people is perhaps the loneliest time of all for me.
So yeah, that's all I have for you today. I'm not sure where else to go because I don't have a fix for this problem. I wish I knew how to feel comfortable enough with myself and with other people to be absolutely genuine with them all the time. I wish I could tell my friends exactly how much each of them means to me, even if I don't talk to them as much as I probably should. But until then, this will have to do.