in security

Last night I had the most banal nightmare.

It was around 4am when I shot up in bed, turned on the lamp, and lay there feeling dejected and fundamentally, suddenly, outside of my life. It was a dream about friendship; in it, I had brought friends back to my house (in Michigan, absurdly), and I made them a dinner while they sat outside at a table in the snow (their choice), but when I brought out the dinner they said the plans had changed, they were going to a restaurant where another friend was waiting and I could come if I wanted.

It had more to do with who the friends were--one friendship has been haunting me recently, as it does from time to time, and always my own thoughts leave me feeling cornered and vulnerable. But there was also just the action--the casual walking away, the disinterested invite, and my built-up desperation for attention, something that has always been so fundamentally un-me. But I've beaten it to death recently, letting my friends know I've felt alone, dreading--especially last quarter--weekends by myself. I've pushed it out of my head recently and I've been better at adapting than I used to be. I've taken more initiative and pursued some new and old friendships for company. But maybe it was the disinterest of my last date that has me dreaming of rejection at 4am, so uncomfortable it feels like a nightmare, so true that I turn on the light and immediately know, epiphany-style:

People are selfish. They listen and ignore. I am selfish too--I have and will continue to leave lonely people lonely in favor of someone else because it satisfies me, as everyone does. It just so happens that I've never been the one left alone, and now I am.

I can only kind of take it personally; it is, as always, the significant other that wins time and affection, that can give back the best and the most, and now it's all a matter of being unlucky in a pool of lucky people, and being unlucky for a long time. Friends commiserate with each other when they're both alone. No one in a relationship really needs to commiserate, and then your friends are pleasant people for brunch and movies every so often. If all of your friends are in relationships, then you spend lots of nights alone and you end up consoling people because their Other said something stupid or doesn't want to go all out for Valentine's. But really? At least someone is keeping them warm at night. Not one of them would trade me for a second.

That's been my mindset on bad days. I realize it's uncomfortably resentful and narrowly unfair. I don't claim that people in relationships hold the key to happiness, but I do believe they hold the key to a kind of security I feel too frequently barred from right now.

As it is now, I feel okay. I've been loosening up a bit; it's better to be alone and unhappy than to be clingy and making someone else unhappy. Today I thought of it as more of a puzzle. I am alone, have been since time immemorial, and will stay that way for a while, it seems. So how do I make myself happy alone? I need to look into projects, solo social diversions that make time alone a strengthening and rejuvenating thing (like it used to be). I want to mix in philosophy, enjoyment, peace, and contemplation. I should emerge every few weeks more interested in and aware of something, not increasingly resentful and socially desperate.

Knowing that is something, anyway.

a date.

I went on a date. Sort of.

You know that rant I had the other day, about how I fail at life? Well the date that was canceled became uncanceled and last night I headed to the north side with electric nerves and met my friends and had dinner and two glasses of red wine. This was before Boy came. After the wine my nerves were no longer electric but more like satin, and I danced around the kitchen. And was ready to meet a potential... something.

I was more than impressed when he finally did show up, bearing Great Lakes beer, and it was instantly clear that he was my type. For the record, my type usually goes along the lines of, physically, a mop of curly hair and blue eyes and a cozy shirt, a flannel in this case. Because I'd ironed out my nerves I started talking to him pretty quickly. A few cocktails were made and downed and then the four of us were walking to a bar. After a while one of the group dropped off to go to sleep (5am wake-up call). I had a Cosmopolitan. We walked back to the apartment and the other went to sleep too, and then it was just me and Boy on the couch and beer and infomercials until around 4am.

So here's the thing I hadn't realized about myself until last night: this whole journalism thing? It's, uh, kind of seeped into my personality. When I talk to someone, the natural tendency to float from question to question to question ("Where did you grow up?", "Are you a Lutheran?", "And how did you feel about it?") is very much present. Poor Boy. I don't know if he started the night intending to tell me his life story, but now I know it, down to his dad dying eight years ago and leaving him a guitar, his current no-marriage, no-baby outlook, and the fact that he likes to buy books online so that he gets a package in the mail.

There were pros and cons. The cons include the fact that he smokes (although he was very amiable as I reminded him that he was going to die of lung cancer). But the pros are pretty good. We have the same favorite book. We were able to talk for about six hours straight. And there was actual chemistry, at least on my end. Chemistry like he'd smile and I'd go a little soft, and I kept looking at the buttons on his shirt. I also liked when he talked about his job and mentioned specific cells and procedures and I had no idea what he was talking about. Ooh, talk nerdy to me.

He finally did leave at 4am-ish and there was no kiss (nor any physical stuff up until that point) but there was the awkward, drawn-out looking-at-each-other moment and then a hug. And a suggestion that we "hang out" again.

When I came back this morning he'd added me on Facebook. In 2010, I guess that's Step 1. Of course, I figure the ball is in his court, but my lack of dating experience always leaves me a little bewildered (are we friends? Is the anticipation of dating still hanging in the air? Should I initiate something?)... good thing this week is heavy on the work for me. Of course, there is an expiration date on this hanging-in-the-air thing, I'm sure. As of now, I wait for the unusually dark-and-brooding scientist to get in touch. Or I bother my friend to find out what he thought.

..on second thought, that seems like a good route.

Let's talk about how

I am a massive failure at life.

I have no money and owe at least $300 on my bank account, I bought a pint of Ben & Jerry's yesterday despite this fact, there's freezing rain outside and I have no rain boats and my shoes fall apart in the rain, I was going to have a group date this weekend but now it's postponed due to a friend's financial difficulties and the guy will probably get a girlfriend in the meantime, I spent an enormous amount of time this week trying not to pitifully be excited that I even had a date, I did none of my readings this week, my Nietzsche prof sent out an email expressing his disappointment in peoples' lateness for which I am at least partially responsible, other people are finding jobs and applying for schools and I have barely even thought about either one, I still need to deal with health insurance stuff from my mono hospital-going saga, I still need to apply for a Stafford loan if it's even possible, I have done almost no BA reading or work since one week ago but I know everything that has happened on Facebook, and, although it hardly requires mentioning, I have no motivation.

Please, someone kick me in the face.