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.