I don’t make friends easily. I am shy, and I hold myself back, aloof and scared – both that they won’t like me and that I won’t like them. I am too judgmental and I worry that everyone else is, too, that they look at me and see everything I know I am lacking. I’ve always been that way – reserved, held back. I’ll joke with you and talk and tell stories and listen to your stories, but I won’t really give myself to the conversation, and I won’t be able to make an effort later unless you push yourself at me – in which case I will get scared and move further away.

I haven’t had a best friend since high school, and I haven’t had any friends at all since before my son was born almost 6 years ago. In college, I had girlfriends, but no one close, no one I felt totally comfortable with, no one who bothered to contact me or who I bothered to contact when I abruptly left and went home with my tail between my legs. No one who really mattered or to whom I really mattered.

I wish that I could stop being this way, that I could open up and let people in, that I could stop nitpicking and stop feeling picked at. Even with this blog – people start reading it a little bit, and I back away. I have all these excuses – I’m busy, work is busy, life is difficult – but, really, it’s fear. It’s backing away and not letting anyone in. All my confessions, my admittances, they’ve all scared me off and I want to take them all back, put a façade up, start over again and not let anyone in that far. So I’m admitting this, and I’m going to try to keep up with my writing again, try to let people in, try to let myself out a little. It’s lonely in here by myself.