The Quiet One

I’m the quiet one. That person you think is boring because she just sits there and barely says anything. I tend to choose talkative people to hang out with…the kind of people who hate silence and try to fill it with whatever they can think of at the moment. I’m perfectly content to sit there puzzling over why I'm surrounded by people who are ignoring me, as long as I forget the idea of “me.” As soon as I think there is a “me” that should have a larger say in the conversation, I get angry and resentful. But do I say anything? Of course not. I prefer to obliterate the notion of “me” instead.

Sometimes if I have problem with someone or a situation I just pull back and ponder. Often I realize the problem is actually…guess what? “me” and my thinking. This saves me from having to confront people, because if the problem is me and my perception of them, then they have done nothing wrong and there is no need to say anything. Problem solved. 

Except it is not entirely solved, because I am still lonely. I’m lonely at parties, lonely with dear friends, lonely in any situation where I feel like a warped puzzle piece trying to fit into the wrong puzzle. And the only reason I’m saying this in a public “place” is because I think some of you might be able to relate to and understand what I’m feeling. Perhaps that shared feeling will make you feel less lonely, if only for a few moments. Sharing this abstract moment of connectedness is what makes me feel less lonely. It is hard for me to relate to people as individuals, but I can often relate to them in general terms, when I consider the universal feelings we share.