It’s strange because for the longest time I thought that who you’re friends with defines you. It became your rank in the world, it became the contacts that got you places.
I remember last year, in high school. I used to get so nervous when I was seen by myself, waiting for my friends to join me or whatever. I thought that every glance someone gave me was a stare of judgment, like for the rest of their lives they would remember that girl with the high pony tail and puffed cheeks sat alone at the beginning at lunch, what a loser.
But now I understand. Friends are a distraction. I don’t need people to qualify as a living human being, I don’t need people to ask me if I’m okay, because I am. I’m fine. And those words mean so much to me, because for the first time I really feel that way. I just feel fine. Nothing much is going on. And that’s okay.
Call me bitter, call me a social outcast. But don’t you see? I’m not a social outcast because you can’t be an outcast of an idea you’re not a part of. The only social thing I do is text my mum from time to time, and have conversation with my brother. There are also like two other people I’m not blood related to, but by now they are like siblings as well. Obviously I am human, so I do need some contact with others to be sane. And that’s okay. I’m so okay with that.
I’m alone, but I’m not lonely. Not for a single second. I don’t need other people to make me feel comfortable. Me, myself, and I- we’re great. I’m great.
This sounds sappy, coming from me. Sad, pathetic, like I’m at the end of my line. But everyone needs a period of time to be completely cut off at one point in their lives. I guess mine is just a bit more prolonged.
And I’m okay.