"And I Think It's Gonna Be A Long, Long Time"

I'm feeling rather disquieted right now, and I can't quite place why. I think part of it is having not had any human interaction today (except with the person behind the counter at Little Ceasers and the guy behind the counter at the gas station, but those don't count because neither case was an instance of interaction between two individuals, but rather interaction between consumer and service/goods provider). Beyond going to forage for food, I haven't left the apartment all day. I did talk to my mom, but that really doesn't count as human interaction because we spent most of the conversation arguing.

Days like this just sort of highlight my loneliness and isolation. Most of the time, I don't mind isolation. I spent a lot of time hanging around my undergrad roommate, one of the world's worst antisocials, and some of him rubbed off on me (I got most of the rest disinfected, though). My general opinion of most people is that, while I'm sure they're all very nice people and very worthwhile in their own way, I probably don't want anything to do with them. And they're probably stupid. Since I live in Oklahoma, that last bit is especially likely. Given that I'm in Norman, a city well known for its infatuation, nay, it's zealous obsession, with football, the likelihood of any given individual I come across being a complete blithering moron increases exponentially.

Beyond that, I've always had an isolationist streak to me. I prefer small, intimate gatherings of two or three people to wild, racous parties, I feel uncomfortable and nervous in large groups, and I prefer having a small circle of very close friends to a large group of good acquaintances. There's also the fact that most of my favorite activities--reading, writing, drawing, playing videogames, and listening to music--are activities that are predominantly individualistic. While I don't mind people watching while I draw, and I enjoy sharing my work with lots of people, I prefer to share my work, not me. And having people watching over my shoulder has always left me feeling just a bit odd, to tell the truth.

More than that, even, is the fact that I've chosen a profession--historian--which is very predisposed towards isolationism. Most activities associated with history--again, reading and writing, but also research--are by their very nature individual activities. In essence, I'm setting myself up to be a hermit.

Which is fine, really. I don't mind being by myself most of the time. I've spent a good majority of the past two years rather alone, even when I'm in a crowd. I've always been rather detached from everyone else, acting as more of an observer than a participant or a member of the group. But there are still times when I'd really like having just one person--preferably female--around. A companion would be nice, I guess. Someone I could relate to without effort, someone around whom I never felt anxious or uptight or concerned that I'm about to say something stupid (an all-too-common feature of many of my conversations with members of the opposite sex).

I want a match, I guess.

And, romantic that I am, I still have no doubt in my mind that I'll find one. I'm absolutely certain that I'll find someone who fits me so well, so perfectly, that we're like a single individual. I've seen several of my friends find such matches. I know it's possible, even for someone as antisocial as my roommate was. Whether I'll find her soon or not remains to be seen.

But really, spending today alone was rather lonely. I don't feel like repeating the experience anytime soon, if I can help it.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: Elton John, "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road"