Solomon Grundy

“I’m starting to realize that as much as I need to eat food and brush my teeth, just as a social animal, I also need positive social interactions”

The therapist nods.

This was a few years ago now.

So I came to such a realization long enough ago but looking at my life the past two years it seems I really haven’t done much with that knowledge.

If I were to put a number on it, I’d say I spend 96% of my time completely by myself.

“that’s an oddly specific number”

I like the feel of it better than 95% is all.

“I see, go on.”

This has been the case ever since I came to America I believe. Back home, in my mother’s sewing school I was always surrounded by her students, my friends, the neighbors, the chocolate lab and golden retriever, the German shepherd next door that I was afraid of, so on and so forth. Lots of souls, lots of them.

Here, outside of school I really didn’t have much interaction at all. One of my parents was always at work when the other was home, often times asleep, or working on something to bring some extra money home. Eventually both of them would be gone and I’d have to baby sit my newborn sister. Sometimes I feel as though I raised her myself.

I remember the sentiment that America was dangerous, kids would get kidnapped, so on and so forth they’d tell me, so I wasn’t allowed to go out and wander like I’d do back home. It didn’t help that I was the new foreign kid with no idea how things really operated so, an additional barrier there

oh, they’ve come to bring me back to the altar. Basically the point of this all was that I’ve been lonely for a long time, I don’t quite know what it is about me that always made me the odd one out, but also when I think about it and look back at some of my behaviors, I guess it makes sense that people wouldn’t have kept me around. But maybe that isn’t fair to myself, my parents wouldn’t let me go to sleepovers, or sporting events, or the movies, or anywhere really. I was just always inside with my books, and now ? Now its a lot of work, a lot of risk, and a lot of guaranteed pain for me to try to connect with people, I’m not sure I’m quite capable of it anymore. Actually, if I’m being truly honest, I’m giving up on my friends, on my relationships, on myself.

How sad.

I feel like they’d say that very often about me and my life

“how sad”

Anyway, off I go again to pay my dues.

A cigarette on the bench, that’s what I need. Maybe the front steps, I can watch all the living people go about it.

The entries are getting shorter shorter aren’t they?

“yes.”