hermit confessions
hermit confessions
To the people I left behind.
It’s in moments like this that I fancy all the memories I had of all the other people in my life, other than the one solitary figure I’ve resigned myself to sticking with, these past months. The people I call my friends I admit I’ve now lost. I knew it was all coming down to this. No other ending could have been granted to continual dismissal of communication or any signs of concern. It’s not that I’ve stopped caring. It’s not that I suddenly couldn’t remember. At random times of the day I still do happen to reflect on some names and adjectives and mistakes and a few shared jokes. It usually feels like catching fleeting glances at windows into oddly familiar territories that you pass by on languid bus rides. But it feels too much like looking at a stranger’s life’s reruns. Other times, though, I allow myself to dwell longer in those cesspools of old acquaintances and lost ties. It’s a strange feeling, knowing how different life was back then. The spontaneity of it all. The life I had before I chose to build the invisible walls. It was a long process and I didn’t think I could make it, but I guess I already had it in me to be able to survive without having a safe number of people around, and that was what I quickly found to be true. Trust me, though, when I say that muting myself out from substantial friendships isn’t as easy as I seem to be showing. But the choice that won over me was one that didn’t involve other people becoming too disappointed at my lack of consistency for showing any regard. I’ve always had trouble keeping close contact with people. Any signs of a growing emotional connection is something I never learned to deal with, which is why all the friendships I’ve ever had were all maintained by alternating bursts of openness and withdrawal. I know where it comes from but that’s another story. The point is, having someone I need to be committed to requires a lot of struggle. I couldn’t possibly be committed to someone because I keep changing my attention to different people. And I’m trying to make amends with that fact by reducing the number of people accessible for giving attention to, into just one. I am able to make this choice by knowing that I am not something to be missed. Removing myself from the map does not mean that I was repulsed by it, only that I wish to be left out of the drama.
It’s in moments like this that I fancy all the memories I had of all the other people in my life, other than the one solitary figure I’ve resigned myself to sticking with, these past months. The people I call my friends I admit I’ve now lost. I knew it was all coming down to this. No other ending could have been granted to continual dismissal of communication or any signs of concern. It’s not that I’ve stopped caring. It’s not that I suddenly couldn’t remember. At random times of the day I still do happen to reflect on some names and adjectives and mistakes and a few shared jokes. It usually feels like catching fleeting glances at windows into oddly familiar territories that you pass by on languid bus rides. But it feels too much like looking at a stranger’s life’s reruns. Other times, though, I allow myself to dwell longer in those cesspools of old acquaintances and lost ties. It’s a strange feeling, knowing how different life was back then. The spontaneity of it all. The life I had before I chose to build the invisible walls. It was a long process and I didn’t think I could make it, but I guess I already had it in me to be able to survive without having a safe number of people around, and that was what I quickly found to be true. Trust me, though, when I say that muting myself out from substantial friendships isn’t as easy as I seem to be showing. But the choice that won over me was one that didn’t involve other people becoming too disappointed at my lack of consistency for showing any regard. I’ve always had trouble keeping close contact with people. Any signs of a growing emotional connection is something I never learned to deal with, which is why all the friendships I’ve ever had were all maintained by alternating bursts of openness and withdrawal. I know where it comes from but that’s another story. The point is, having someone I need to be committed to requires a lot of struggle. I couldn’t possibly be committed to someone because I keep changing my attention to different people. And I’m trying to make amends with that fact by reducing the number of people accessible for giving attention to, into just one. I am able to make this choice by knowing that I am not something to be missed. Removing myself from the map does not mean that I was repulsed by it, only that I wish to be left out of the drama.