I’m starting to think I made the wrong decision in my life. I moved from New York, where I had a lot of friends, to San Francisco, where I had no friends. Why did I do it? New job. More money. Things that seem totally reasonable at the time until I am confronted with the reality of living in a city where I don’t know anybody. It isn’t a stretch to say that I have no friends in SF. Part of it was conscious choice. Part of it was just how things panned out. But here I am sitting on my bed after my first day of work, after I made a short trip to check out a gym, after I ate Chipotle after my workout, alone.
It is 8:39 PM and I am sitting alone in my studio apartment and bored. I am typing this up on Word instead of WordPress, which I usually use, because I haven’t committed to an ISP yet, and I don’t have internet. I have not put together my bedframe yet because I don’t own a screwdriver. My desk is unassembled for the same reason. I am waiting for my Amazon package containing a screwdriver to arrive in a day or so. My clothes are scattered across the floor because I don’t have any organizing bins. I’m unsure which of my clothes are clean clothes and which are worn. I’m playing My Chemical Romance because I feel alone and because I just got back from Firefly two days ago, where they headlined on Friday.
There isn’t any “depth” to this feeling like it had been in other times in my life. I’m not thinking about the cyclicality of relationships or the inevitability of loneliness or whatever else I was thinking in my junior year of college. All I have is the sensation of loneliness. I am feeling lonely without all the intellectual theorizing that have plagued my previous experiences. It is just me and my feeling. I don’t really feel the need to intellectualize my feelings. It is just a feeling, and that’s it all will be.
I notice myself relying more on imagery instead of theory now. I exist more in the world around me than I do in my own head. It keeps me grounded to my surroundings. It keeps me in touch with the earth when I feel like I am floating away. But I still feel as if I am floating. My feelings feel distant to me. It is so much effort to just try to feel what I am feeling. Why must I try so hard to stay attached to something that is a literal part of my extended being?
I have the sniffles. I am not crying. I am just sick.