On Being a Friend...and Needing One
Last night, after a hellish visit to the doctor's office to give a sample for a blood test, I stopped off at a local coffee shop to visit with a friend. I mistakenly thought that my friend had requested the meeting to talk shop (we are both involved in the same volunteer effort). It turns out that she just really needed some time with a friend.She moved to the area about 18 months ago and still hasn't made any friends. Part of this is due to the fact that she's a mother to three boys ranging from teenage to toddler in age. It is also due to the fact that she works fulltime as a teacher and then does all of this volunteering on top of everything else. Not a lot of time for socializing in her schedule.
As a matter of fact, we only met through the volunteering thing, though we've become good friends through working together and discovering how much we have in common.
I listened to her and we talked for three hours, the time passing very quickly. Part of being a real friend is just being there, listening to another person and giving them the support that they need. I was glad to be there for her.
But, it all made me realize how lonely I feel at times. Don't get me wrong: I have wonderful friends. But sometimes, I suppose I'd just like someone who had similar views. I love my friends, but all too often I feel like a bug under glass with them. I'm an oddity to them, something to be investigated, captured, and pinned to the board. At least, that's how I feel sometimes.
I know I'm a bit different. My background, my life experiences, are not what people are used to here. I have a nasty habit of voicing my opinion with great frequency and vehemence. It is a credit to my friends that they are my friends, I think. Even so, I sometimes feel like that hair that won't lay flat. It is depressing.
