Posted in Extraversion

On Missing and Sucking At Being Alone

Source: On Missing and Sucking At Being Alone

The things I miss, I am still missing them and I still am finding all the right reasons not to miss them anymore.

Like I wonder if some of those people I have met along the way ever stop sometime and miss something that made them happy in the past, like our friendship, because I do that most of the time. Of course, I also get annoyed by the fact that I am very sentimental…and emotional. I build almost everything around me with emotions. If life was a business, my investment is always emotion. Like sometimes, I just can’t simply throw a candy wrapper away just because someone very important gave it to me, or it holds something memorable, or I’m just a creep who is also a hoarder of candy wrappers. Things might have been easier and full of sense if it were the last. But nope, it always has to be full of some sentimental shit. Always emotionally dependent. That’s me.

Like  when I landed on my first (impulsively) long-distance job after college (the place was 2-3 hours away from where I and the people I love lived), the first few days were fine, but after a week of surviving, being alone, I was going bonkers already. I could do the job, it was easy, but the thing that made it awful was that I was missing people!

I was always crying every time. Every morning, I will put on my uniform idiotically thinking about packing my things and just going home and I was always discerning about how awful it was to have graduated at all. I might have regretted being away from the comfort zone I built for several years. I was always crying too, every night, when putting myself to sleep and thinking about my friends and how much I was fucking missing them. My boyfriend would visit me on weekends, but when it was time for him to go, I would sob like a kid unashamedly. So, after a month, I left the place. It was imprudent and amusing, but remembering it now, it was extremely dreadful that it got me depressed for months, even when I was already working in the city with some old and new friends with me. Because the truth hit me. Everything has started to change.

I never thought that missing people is a hideous thing. Unfortunately, it is.

My defense: to hate the things I miss. Eventually, I stopped showing them I care. I stopped keeping in touch, because they would not, so why would I? Even those people who are just around the corner, they can’t even drop by to say hi. It’s tiring to be always the one asking people out, it’s tiring inviting friends for meet ups, it’s tiring to be always the one saying hi even when everybody just couldn’t care less. Or maybe they too, got tired of me, or with people like me; those people like me who only want to be around other people, those who are extremely extraverted or those whose dictionaries don’t include the terms “being alone”, “doing things alone” and “alone”. Or surely, they have numerous reasons of their own, too.

The other defense: acceptance.

Like accepting the fact that they have started to make a new life now and I should probably accept that I am doing it already, too.

Seriously though, I understand now that with growing older comes the burden of accepting the fact the difficulty of life’s changes, like being away with the family and friends to find anew of one’s “own”, “alone”. Also, accepting that the friends and the people you once shared your life with cannot find a minute within their everyday to remember you and the things you once have shared. (Might not be true). It’s the fucking truth, it hurts, but accepting it will let one free. A friend once told me, “I have problems of my own, don’t add up…”. He rubbed it on my face rudely, too. Fucking ouch and unforgettable (and unforgivable) but in short, “Get a life of your own!”

Which means, with growing older comes the immense responsibility of making big and life-altering decisions “alone”. With growing older means being more independent and being able to let go of things which might not be of use in one’s path to whatever their life goal may be (e.g. useless and senseless companionships in life, clingy boy/girlfriends, extraverted and loud friends, tiring situations etcetera)  which means finding the mandala in “being alone”.

But don’t I think that maybe this is the reason why most grown men and women are not happy?  Since I am a fan of teamwork, I absolutely think it is.

They might have not forgotten, because it’s hard to forget things that made them happy once in their lives. They might have let go of them. Because letting go means to not having turn their heads to them back anymore.  They might think that being alone, doing things alone and not missing some things mean being happy. Or worse, they might have stopped missing them.

But the things we miss… how do we miss them until we can no longer do so?

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I tell stories.

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