Wednesday, February 27, 2013

No more.

"Roland of Gilead, son of Steven. Who speaks to me?"
"GILEAD IS NO MORE," the voice mused, ignoring the question. Roland looked up and saw patterns of concentric rings in the ceiling. The voice was coming from those.
"I and my friends are the last."

I can do great things when I'm angry. I can do great things when I've had enough. Sometimes, it's the only way I can do certain things.

Six years ago, I didn't have any female friends. At least, none that were all that close, and certainly none that I really chose. Five years ago, when I graduated and came to college, I got a couple. Probably no more than two or three. Four years ago, that began to change. I actually chose a few female friends. Perhaps maybe a third of my friends were girls. Then three years ago, it was half. Two years ago, my male friends diminished significantly. Now beginning a year ago, I have really only one or two close male friends, and a bunch of female friends.

No. More.

As that pattern had changed, I considered it a fluke. I mused that the population of women in Bowling Green was skewed, and the population at St. Tom's even more increasingly skewed over the years. Of course I would have more lady friends. Right?

But no. Somehow, somewhere along the line I really began to prefer the company of women over men. And somehow, I failed to see what a problem it has caused me.

On another note, I am very sick of the kindergarten baby crap that the opposite sex has put me through as I have earnestly and honestly pursued romantic relationships over the years. I have tried lots of separation, little separation, lots of communication, no communication, high speed, low speed, NO speed, I'M DONE! I have put myself through hell trying to be the kind of man who deserves a good woman, only to discover that most women just have no clue what they want and don't deserve a guy like me. I have no qualms about saying that. I really have done a great job in pursuing relationships in an open, honest, christian manner, and I'm through with it.

From now on, I am only going to seek the friendship of my fellow men. Sure, I will hang out with women if they ask...but ONLY if they ask. That should suffice to comfort whatever female friends I still have. Furthermore, I am not even going to think about dating for as long as I feel like not thinking about it.

Why? I have many, many reasons.
  1. Girls get closest to other girls, guys get closest to other guys. Here I've been, stuck in no man's land. I tried to become best friends with girls, but it would never work. I could never be as close to a girl as another girl. And all the time, I wouldn't be invited to spend time with girls because they were having girl time and I was a guy. And I wouldn't be invited to guy time because I wasn't hanging out with guys so they wouldn't think to invite me. THIS WAS A VERY, VERY LONELY EXISTENCE.
  2. I have been emasculated. I think because I've hung out with girls so much, I got used to it. So did girls. I became one of the girls, instead of a guy hanging out with girls. I can only get masculinity from hanging out with guys. I want that back.
  3. On a similar note, I think it's made me unattractive to women. I'm really not sure how it all works but I don't care. I still think I ought to be married someday, and something is not right about hanging out with women all the time and not getting anywhere all this time. Time to try something different.
  4. Similar to number one, I have had such bad experiences with female friendships. My best friend at one point was a girl. Now, she ignores me and doesn't even have the decency to tell me why. I literally have no clue what I did. I've noticed most of my female friends are always too busy to hang out and don't really ask me to come over or anything, which sucks because a one-sided friendship isn't really a friendship at all.
  5. Hanging out with guys used to be fun. It can be fun again. I remember having great times TPing and playing Mario Kart with my guy friends in high school. To this day, I laugh a lot more with the few remaining guy friends I have than with women. Women tend not to be as funny as guys. And laughing is such a cure for anything. It would be nice to bust a gut when I'm feeling down instead of talking about it with girls and just eventually realizing there is no solution and feeling worse.
So, yeah. I'm not going to talk, text, invite, or otherwise seek the company of women. If any of my friends are offended by this, then let it be so. You had your chance to seek me out, and you still do. I won't say no to hanging out with anyone, I never have and never will. But I have to do what is right for me. Even more, I have to do what is right. I am angry, and justly angry, and it is my anger that is enabling me to finally do this right thing, even though it is hard. I will have justice for myself and Christ who leads me to this. No one can stop me.

There was a dream that I dreamed, a dream for masculinity.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Tiny threads.

It's safe to say I feel like junk again.

It had been pretty good for a while - I had a nice week and a half or so break from my sadness which I used to really revitalize my social life in a way I had no longer thought possible. I think having a true friend has really helped  - a wonderful woman of God who has deigned to be an excellent, loyal friend.

I'm really hoping this will just go away on its own - after all, I've spent so much time saying that if I only had one really loyal friend, I would be able to bounce back from anything. But boy, does this hurt. I can't face this kind of rejection without feeling at least a little sad. It would help if I didn't dwell on it so much.

It's times like this where I wonder if I really can keep taking this sort of thing. I think, "Is my sanity hanging by tiny threads like I feel, or am I just being dramatic?" I tend to conclude the latter. Still, just when things start to look like they're changing, they become the same again. A little dig here, a stab there...I go lower and lower, and just when I think things can't get worse they do.

Before I write a blog on self-pity instead of my dreams (as this blog started out, long ago, if you can believe, and to be honest I really don't want to be the kind of person who wallows in self-pity, that's disgusting to me) I want to say that I really think that having this loyal friend around I mentioned has really helped. Whenever I'm really starting to get upset about things that have happened (or not happened that I feel should have happened) it's been nice dwelling on the fact that I have someone who really wants to make time to talk to me - about anything. It doesn't even really matter to me that it's not a romantic relationship...this is someone I really trust who considers me a close friend and includes me in the things that she does. Wants me around, and notices when I'm not. That sort of thing.

That makes it better.

There was a dream that I dreamed, a dream for a long rope of sanity tied to a true friend.

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Happiness and memories.

I've noticed there are two types of people: those who see a happy picture from long ago and feel happy, and those who see a happy picture from long ago and feel sad.

I am one of the latter. The difference between myself and those who see old pictures with happiness is that the happy ones are the ones who know that those times will come again. Me, I don't. The future terrifies me.

Why? Because I know something other people don't. I have discovered that when people have a good group of friends, they don't look for more friends. They don't care about friends that have gone before them - at least, not in any real conscious, present way, just in the abstract "I hope wherever they are and whatever they're doing, they are happy." As long as my friends have plenty of other friends, I am disposable. The only way it is ever different is if I do something to make them feel guilty - or their other friends leave them. And neither of those are solutions that interest me. This is the truth.

My time is over. It has been long over, in fact. My senior year of college was two years ago, and now I am all washed up, even if am still a student - a graduate student, but a student nonetheless. I look around me and see happy people who were first brought into this community by my class - some of them by me personally. It has never really seemed to matter. So long as they are happy, they could care less how lonely I am. They can certainly pretend to care - they have to in order to feel OK about themselves - but in the end, if I never reached out and asked people to spend time with me, I would probably talk to people a couple times a year. There are a few out there who are legitimately busy - I understand that very well, indeed I do - but there are others who have their band, their group, their "one from many" of which I can never hope to take part. I'm too old - even when I do somehow spend time with people here, I feel like an outsider. I belong to a group of people who have already left me behind.

The times I've been happiest in life is when I really felt a part of something greater than myself. The times when I wasn't just a friend, but part of a group of friends. Those were the best. And now, I am on the verge of leaving behind every good thing I've had on earth. All that I ever really had was here, at school. If I couldn't make friendships that last here, what hope do I have out there, where it is so much harder?

There was a dream that I dreamed, a dream of constant memory.