The Feeling Returns (19)

Me

This is how many people feel. It leads to anxiety and depression. For me it is rare because I tend to keep to myself. I am generally a happy person but I do not have many friends. I am an ambivert. Quiet most of the time and in some instances, when I decide to put myself out there, outgoing. But I tend to get the cold shoulder. 

I guess I am better in small doses because I tend to not follow a logical path all the time and this is awkward. So most people tend to encounter with me briefly. Even when I am trying to make a friend, I generally end up alone like a wall flower. Thus this story is about a recent encounter- left me a bit defeated indeed.

Myself

I saw it in the mirror before I heard it, the collapse of spirit. It shown through in a facial expression, down turned lips, red cheeks, then a slow amassing tear and when it made its way down my cheek, I heard the sob. The sound so familiar, the chest shake so familiar. The thought so familiar "They hate me." 

You would think I'd learn to cope with the loss of friendship, I have encountered it all my life. They talk to me briefly, then decide, in a moment or two, there is someone better nearby to talk to and they hightail it away in a sprint. They see someone near to be friends with, other than me. I see the moment, the split spark of self-preservation before they even know themselves. 

This time, I choose to retreat, put my shield up- I can see that look. This gives them an opportunity to venture off without the awkward. I see them later, laughing and engaged in conversation with someone else. Another one of them. It has always been them and me. I can't compete because I do not know all the rules and the ones I do know, I can't seem to follow. So is this my fault?

They venture into my orbit out of necessity and boredom but leave out of guilt. The guilt that they don't want to get to know me. Because if they did- they would have to talk to me about more than grades, lessons and pacing guides.

Now I hear it before I see it. My inner voice whispers a warning. "Speak slow, concise- make eye contact." Then I see my face, a mental image of my flat pursed lips, eyes wandering and know they are going to 'not get me.' I try so hard sometimes- I create awkward and most people- don't like awkward. I stay, retreat in my mind to my safe place. I hate feeling like I don't belong, but I don't want them to know that.

This feeling takes me to a dark place- spit balls landing in my hair, snickers and sideways glances. You know when someone tolerates you. It's a constant tell- and I know all the tells. We know each other well. I just get angry at myself when I forget and invest my emotions- then this dark place takes hold and I fall under its spell.

I

"Hello my friend, welcome back. You made a fatal error tonight- you have to remember, Don't Try To Make friends- they never last"

I guess I am better not in person. 

I am better in small doses.

I choose pen to paper rather than face to face interactions because I know I will feel this way after, if it is more than a casual conversation. My sanctuary is my isolation. My spectrum I guess.

Kids- they tend to like me just fine. I get along with most students. They sense it. They have the quirk too. Until they conform, until they lose it. The quirk, utter openness. Inhibitions curbed. I live this way and for many it is unnerving. 

I want to fit in, desperately. But I never do. As an adult others seem to just tolerate me. I keep trying though. I am alone again. And that feeling returns- I feel it before I see it or hear it. A deep seeded sadness. But it is fleeting, because it is normal. It is a reminder to keep trying eventually someone will move past the awkward.