I’m an extrovert, an extreme one. That doesn’t mean that I’m gregarious and friendly (though I am), it means that I reenergize around and with others; it’s how I fill up again.
After particularly long and hard days I plot where I’m going to go and sit to soak in humanity. Sometimes I cry on my way home for need of people. It’s like an addiction: where can I find my next hit of people??
Ideally I’ll have a friend join me for an impromptu drink, but in a pinch I will sit at a bar alone and watch the first dates and business meetings. Men in khakis and women in adorable transition athletic wear.
I have a secret fantasy that I will meet my next great love this way, quietly and accidentally. But alas… we all know how that has gone.
It seems so many of us in this community are introverts and grit their teeth until they can be alone and bask in the solitude. I am the exact opposite.
I feel desperate and choking when I think of the deafening silence which awaits me at home. That ear ringing silence that greets you on a dark night outside the pulsing club. It makes me hysterical and feel desperate… and helpless.
I need people.
I need people to feel balanced and right, to feel like myself.
The Neighbor was an introvert and was so protective of his alone time that I was driven to get a dog to fill the void. My four-legged humanoid hardly fits the bill perfectly, but he’s better than nothing,
And now I find myself more alone than ever. The Sub I’ve been seeing since October will be buried under work until April and though he’s expressed concern and worry over losing me, I have little hope we’ll weather the break. That’s just how these things go.
I’ve ended things with a couple of Chrises for lack of chemistry and bad sex respectively, and am only barely poking around the dating scene. I’m worried.
My self esteem has tanked since withdrawing from men in general and I find myself alone on my couch night after night, restless and sad, depleted, with no interest in anyone. This hasn’t happened before; there’s always been someone to keep me engaged, to solve for.
So I’m trying to figure out this new found time alone. I’m struggling with my body image and I feel largely uncreative. I also feel as though I’m in stasis, waiting for the next butterfly wing beat.
Maybe I really should just head to that bar I love and bask in all the people while I nurse a beer. Their love, their intrigue, their moves after a day at a desk. Mine doesn’t look like it’ll get much more interesting any time soon.