I was walking Buster tonight, reveling in the gorgeously thick humidity, the almost-full moon, the loveliness of our neighborhood. Suddenly, I was overcome with sadness, with a profound sense of loss, almost failure. I felt so lonely, and conflicted by that loneliness.
As the first born in a large family, I never quite grew accustomed to being in a crowd. Later in life I thought this separate-ness was what made me a good actress�I would much rather be in front of a crowd than in it. Unfortunately, this feeling has also left me very torn as an adult. On the one hand, I love to be alone, or near alone. I love to shop by myself, I love to curl up with a book and disappear. On the other hand, on nights such as these (when C has band practice or is otherwise occupied), I am struck again with this profound loneliness. There is no one to call, not that I have anything to talk about anyway. I have a few friends in this town, but no one that I could call up for no reason. No one that I can just hang out with. My best girlfriend in the world lives halfway around the world, coincidentally. My best guy friend (outside of C), is married and his wife doesn�t take kindly to him just hanging out with me.
The only bad thing about being out of college, for me, is no longer being surrounded by people like me. People who have my interests, are my age, are smart and fun. Having millions (it seems like that many now) of social opportunities at my very fingertips. Now as an �adult�, I am lost. I don�t have the time (or desire at this moment) to take any classes, join a club, whatever else people suggest as ways to find friends as an �adult�. But I miss it, I do. Girls. I miss having girlfriends, a whole group of them. A group outside of my sisters.
I am so thankful for the friends I have made since moving back here, don�t get me wrong. However, I don�t feel comfortable burdening anyone with being one of my only friends. We would eventually run out of conversation, I�ve seen fetal friendships shrivel and die from lack of conversation. Thank god, though, for C. If I didn�t have him, if I didn�t so truly enjoy his company, I really would be lost.
A few days ago, walking through downtown to our car, C and I ran into an old friend of mine, Mary. Mary was one of those instant friends you make on the first day of the semester�we got on famously. Unfortunately, when she graduated (she was a couple of years older), we fell out of touch, too easily. I�ve always regretted it, and thought of her often.
And then, there she was. And she remembered me, even shouted my name across the street. It was a reunion, lots of rushed introductions, blathering �it�s so good to see you!� We did the five minute catch-up, and I find out that she�s moving back here to teach at UT. I had to calm myself, because on the inside I was screaming: �please oh please oh please be my FRIEND!� I nonchalantly gave her my business card, not-to-desperately imploring her to call, email, whatever, when she moves in August.
It is sad, no? Me being so excited, because come August I just might have another girl friend in Cow Town?
When C and I got to the car, I was near tears and speaking at Dolphin level. He said that he hadn�t seen me this excited in ages, that he never realized just how serious I was when I complained of being lonely.
Poor guy, it�s so easy for him. Most of his friends stayed in town after graduation, and now that he�s back in school he has a whole new crop. Most of my friends took off, and those that have returned came back with snarky, jealous wives.
I know, I took off as well. I went to Europe, New York. I made scads of friends. And you know what I did? I turned my back and left, without even saying goodbye to most of them. A week after I moved my friend Sarah, a good friend with bad drug problems�like most of my NYC friends, called me, laughing. �People are telling me that you moved back to Tennessee, isn�t that hilarious,� she screamed. Hilarious. She hung up on me and we never talked again.
I deserved that. But if I hadn�t left the way I did, I wouldn�t have. If I had told everyone, said my goodbyes, they would have made me stay, I had seen them do it before. The city, the environment, they were killing me. I just had to go.
So, I�ve been surrounded by friends, and left them all without a second glance�I�m not Lot�s wife, that�s for sure�no pillar of salt. Now, my desert of friendship has only a few, spare, sparkling oasis�and I wish for more. The more introspective I get, the worse the analogies.
Which takes me back to the beginning of this entry. What do I want? What am I doing? How do I fix it, and do I even want to?
I was walking tonight, and I was startled by the sound of sirens. I realized quickly that they were floating over from across the river. A bad neighborhood, one lacking wraparound porches, wide, grassy medians to walk through. One where it doesn�t smell like cut grass and grilling food. I feel selfish, unnecessary. I have so much. I want more. I want less.
I want to know what I want.