twosday (thursday)

Woke this morning with a bit of a Jerry Maguire hangover. Had I said too much writing in here last night? Had I made a mistake putting myself out there? I have to write in here every day? Jebus. Ah, well. Move on.

This morning, waiting for the train to take me down to work —

And can I just say that there's a certain kind of weird symmetry to the fact that I'm now taking the red line again. When I first moved here, I commuted to the job at the hospital on 168th street, then to E.S.T. on 52nd street, then back home to 114th street most every day. There's some residual emotions that still hum in the background at that station. I did a lot of heavy lifting in that underground cave those first couple of years. Odd to feel a kind of circle closing there, and to be able to recognize the distance I've travelled while coming back to the same place.

— I recognized someone standing on the platform just down from me. I had my headphones on and was murmuring along with David Gray and did a distant stare past him, but know I knew him from somewhere. He was never a friend, but a multiply-met acquaintance, I think.

I thought about what it would be like to approach him. What would I say? How awkward would that be? And why is there no chance that I was going to do that?

For a moment I thought about breaking that cycle, but was never seriously considering it. I thought about Amy's friend Bryan, and how he inevitably runs into people he knows when you're walking with him and there's always a joyful reconnection there. And I thought about how I distance myself from people whenever I can. Like here at work. I've been here for nine months and I don't really have any friends. There are some positive vibes between me and some people, but I've never actually made any effort. Partly because I always feel like people don't like me. But, on the platform this morning, it occured to me: I don't think I give off a "socially uncomfortable" vibe too often. People are often surprised when I say how uncomfortable I am around most people. And, so, I think that how people "experience me" is that I seem like a socially competent person who is choosing not to interact with them — and they think that's because I don't think that they're worth the time or that I'm too good for them. I have heard that people think I'm stuck up.

I think this is all connected with what I was talking about yesterday — that I need to get back to forcing myself to be in uncomfortable situations, and to stretch that cocoon I have wrapped myself in.

Thanks for the encouraging emails and the comments, folks. Felt good to get 'em.