Fallen Leafs

Not too long ago, I sighed out, “I don’t want to be social” a little more loudly than I intended. Sounds stupid, since when do you sigh something out quietly? In any case, the person beside me laughed and said I was too funny.

As any normal person would do, I followed along and laughed with her. Though my intentions were less comedic, but rather a lamentation in frustration, her enjoyment from my comment was a freebie. Instead of filing it away, I thought about the reasons why I’ve become less and less bothered by not doing anything with other people.

Inherently, I’m a selfish person. Much too selfish to understand the fundamentals of selflessness and openness that most friendships require on a daily basis. Every year, the less people I actually meet under the pretence of hanging out. Instead of an occupied mind flooded with summer night gatherings, I’m more or less reprimanding everyone else for not making that effort. In actuality, I’m not doing my part to uphold the human mantra of being social animals. I realize this, but I’m not sure if I want to to do anything about it.

Sure, I’m likely coming off as anti-social and egotistical, in addition to being selfish. These aren’t very pleasant odours to emit. But just like Skynet, I’m self-aware. It’s no mystery why I can’t hold very close friendships for a long time. My choice not to reveal my entire soul makes it hard for people to stick around. I’ve accepted it because I know I’m the reason, and yet, I’m not unhappy about it. As the common story goes of a privileged child born in a first-world country, I’m regrettably living at home with my parents. Surprisingly though, they filled that necessary social void in my life right now.

Lame as it sounds, their constant pestering to take me on trips to factory outlets in the States and hold family night dinners has seen me buy less alcohol, and do less cocaine*. I was too busy making excuses and posting less than witty twitter responses to see how thankful my situation turned out to be in the short term. Long term, oh, I have to move out. In the meantime, my new mission is to kill John Connor fully acknowledge being alone probably suits me and thus, strong personal friendships aren’t in the cards for me. I don’t have to like it all the time, but maybe eventually, I won’t have to write why.  

*I’ve never injected hard drugs in my life. I just assumed eating leftover chicken soup with my parents made me less inclined to seek out needles.