I wrote this piece last week, after someone said something to me. It stuck with me for days. She said this: "I don't have friends."
I Don't Have Friends
And It's My Fault, And That's Okay
I have a hard time with friendship these days, and it's because I like to keep to myself.
A lot.
And when I finally do go somewhere, it's to be alone.
A ride.
A hike.
Or dinner with just me and the person on the other side of the counter.
Sometimes I visit with family for the day, catch the occasional round of golf, or take in a ball game with old friends during football season.
I just don't have friends…
Not ones that don't have their own lives and busy schedules.
And sometimes it feels sad.
At times I feel so lonely. That's when I need to remind myself that there is a good reason.
It's because I've been working on me.
For a long time now.
And I can't have them—
even though I really want to.
I'm moving in the right direction, so slowly, and I can't risk losing my way.
If I do let someone in, it has to be someone who is already moving in the same direction.
"Like-minded."
Yet, when I do meet someone that I think is going where I want to go—it scares the shit out of me—because maybe they aren't…
So, I keep them close, but not close enough.
I want them near me, but not too close.
Because the risk might not be worth the reward.
