I long to experience being alive. I long to stand up in the back of a pickup truck while speeding through a tunnel with a great song pumping out of the speakers as loud as it will possibly go without losing fidelity.
I long to look through the open back window of the cab at a pretty face that looks back at me like I’m the most important thing in their world. I wanna be a hero, just for one day.
I have no concept of what I actually want, but the end of the film, “The Perks of Being a Wallflower” evoke the right sort of feelings in me. A sense of longing, a need to feel that feeling of belonging, not so much in a place as to other people or a person.
There are moments in that film that strike a very strong chord with me, and they all involve another character taking a step and helping the main character along. This feels like my life.
I’ve never been one to be particularly pro-active when it comes to interpersonal relationships. Every friendship I’ve had has basically been dropped in my lap either through circumstances or the other party making an effort.
I remember longing for the good looking popular girl to suddenly realise I’m the one for her. I went through phases of trying to create that sort of situation without going as far as making any positive moves myself, which never even hinted towards working. Nobody likes rejection but it was, to my mind, a foregone conclusion. It still is.
I struggle. I struggle with life. But unlike Charlie, the main character from the film, I’ve not suffered any major trauma or anything that I feel justifies my struggles, which makes them even more frustrating. They’re real–I can’t deny that within myself no matter how much I think other people might–but I don’t feel that my life can reasonably be affected by the effects I feel. I’m not even sure if that makes sense.
See, my main issue is this… so this is what my main issue is… I can’t, for the life of me, fathom why anyone would want to spend time with me, much less a lot of time. And that leads to a very strange feeling when I am spending time with people… I have no idea who to be or how to behave. I feel like I need to be who they want me to be, and I need to say what they want or expect me to say, otherwise they won’t want to spend time with me again. It becomes self-defeating.
Something that keeps repeatedly coming up in my therapy sessions is who I think I am, and the recurring answer is that I have no idea. I’ve always been great in situations where the expectations are clear. If someone wants to talk or need help with something specific I feel I can be that person. I think I’m a good listener, a sensible mirror, and a valuable advisor. If I’m invited to socialise with people without any purpose it causes anxiety. I’ve only know a couple of people with whom I can just comfortably hang out.
And I think this has become quite prominent in my life lately because at the moment I don’t really know anyone like that. The only person I can relax with at the moment is me.
“I’m happy with my own company.”
This is what I think.
“I’m most comfortable with my own company.”
This is reality.
Comfortable is not always happy, it’s just a minimal level of anxiety. It’s safe. It’s comfortable.
I’m not sure I know what happy is anymore.
I usually try to have some sort of conclusion on my posts. I wish I had one here.