Trust me, I’ve honestly tried to write – still trying – but the words just keep escaping me. It’s not that I’ve nothing to share – I do, too much really – but I think I’m obviously in a certain phase in my life right now, and swept once more by what else? The winds of change that brings with it a slow whiff of adulthood and though I may not know much about it, this much I can tell you: it doesn’t smell like roses.
The last time I wrote seriously about this, I’d brought up a concept that was not long ago introduced to me: an intimacy of the mind that each person seeks and attempts to create with another person. I… think I’m still in this phase, but it has since seeped itself into existing friendships and relationships in an unpleasant way. It’s forcing me to assess the depth of my loneliness and that hurts. During summer break, I found my heart constantly filled to the brim with love and affection for those I believed love me in the same capacity that I do for them and waxed poetic about quality over quantity. Now I’m back here – halfway across the globe once more – and sometimes I wonder if those feelings were even real. I wonder if they think of me in the same way that I do and the emotional disconnect I constantly feel with the friends I have here only amplify my isolation and loneliness in both geographies.
What is it exactly that I seek?
I am beginning to realize that in truth, more than anyone else – it is myself who is a social animal, the one who craves and needs the presence of others in my life so that I can breathe easy. As much as I love my solitude and occasional deliberate isolation, in truth I would rather do with a friend than without. What happens though, when even the most meaningful friendships don’t or no longer move and satisfy you? What happens then?
These days I feel so emotionally distant not only from those who are physically here but also my friends at home, those I deem as my ‘real friends’. What I’m beginning to understand is that there is a clear distinction between closeness and intimacy, and it is the latter that I yearn for so badly and yet do not know where and how to seek it. I am a private person but I am not closed up; the moment I decide I can trust or like someone enough, I open up and seek to establish lasting connections. I am not pretentious; if I do not like you, I will waste as little of both of our time.
But what now, if I’ve opened myself up and yet the distance is not bridged and the well remains empty?
I feel like I’ve poured myself sincerely and sometimes even to the point of exhaustion to these select people both here and those at home, but… the drum… it doesn’t beat both ways – even with the ones I’ve always considered nearest and dearest. It is like this understanding of intimacy has effectively and effortless changed everything, so immediate and sweeping this gust that’s blowing, and I am defenseless against it.