Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Johnny Depp called--he wants his "cry baby" t-shirt back

I've been a sobbing mess for days. It's absolutely stupid, because I'm not even crying over anything. I'm crying over sentimentality, people doing nice things for each other, or even just because of nothing at all. It makes no sense. I'm happy. Life is good. Classes, yoga, working out, it's all going exactly according to plan.

The only thing I can think of is that I've reached my saturation level with the amount of aloneness I can handle. I've found myself both this week and last week reaching out to people who aren't really my friends--they're more acquaintances. But I'm reaching out because they're in the place and time where I am, and I need people to talk to. I've never needed people like I do now. And it's a strange situation, because it's not like I've been abandoned by any of my friends; if anything, I've abandoned them. A part of me knows that this is a natural part of life: people often "switch friends" when they go to high school, to college, and then into the real world. I see teenagers every day clinging to each other and promising to stay friends forever and I know the reality is that only a small percentage of them will. As an adult, I'm cognizant of how fleeting even the deepest and truest friendships can be. The fact is, we befriend who we are around. We are a society that places a tremendous amount of importance on proximity. And relationships take work and effort. If I don't have the time to work on my relationships, it doesn't matter how much I love the friend; that friendship will diminish.

So I'm handling it by crying my eyes out at nearly every available opportunity. I'm sure that'll help things about as well as it always does. I just have to remember, I guess, that this whole transition I'm going through is worth the trouble I have to go through now. I hope.


Meghan said...

So... you don't know me, and I don't know you, but I came across this blog and just wanted to say that I can identify with you. I've been through a few transitions myself, and there are definitely plenty of people I once called best friends who are almost complete strangers to me now.
I don't know your religious beliefs at all, but on the off-chance that you believe in God, it always helps me to remember that He's always there and always willing to fill my loneliness.
So anyway, if you ever wanna like, rant to a total stranger, you can email me, haha. Or just post on your blog. Whatever.

~Meghan =)

jamais vu said...

Grrl. I think your inner adult needs to take your inner child out for an ice cream and some frivolous little gift. Maybe a bottle of bubbles. If you blow bubbles on a below freezing day do the bubbles freeze? That would be cool. So anyways... shhhh. *hugs* There there. You are potentially your own best friend but if that's not working for you, an imaginary friend is fun too. Mine is an invisible platypus named Jean Claude. We go everywhere together. :o)

Kelly said...

Well hey Meghan! Thanks for reading the blog! I'm the world's biggest whiner, if you haven't noticed. Glad to know, though, that this sort of thing happens to others too :)

Kelly said...

Oh my God, Jamais, you crack me up. I will totally be buying Jean Claude a beret for Christmas. And I'll give that bubble thing a try. Seriously. Now I'm curious. xoxo

Johnna said...

As someone who frequently feels distant guilt/regret for subconsciously choosing to lose touch with many people that have been important to me at pivotal moments of my life, thank you for this post. Seriously. And really...biology? Ick. Not that we didn't ROCK that chem class at Olaf...