So it’s hard to put into words what I’ve been thinking about for the past few hours, because it’s driven by an emotionally charged history and a bit of alcohol. So take whatever I say however you want. I really couldn’t care less about it. I just need to write it somewhere.
I hate New Years. It always makes me reflect on the past year, and where I was, you know what? I really hate December. Because people are preparing for Christmas, which is a milestone, and New Years, an even bigger milestone, and everyone is so caught up in the moment that they forget about me. Yes. I feel selfish saying that, and I have arguments for why I am and am not, but I’ll get there. I feel abandoned on New Years. Every year. No matter what, I always have this feeling that no one remembers me, or that I’m just an after thought. My mind is racing with ways of explaining this. I’ve always spent New Years at home (the perks of having protective parents, you know?), which has always been kind of depressing. While all my friends (I say that as if I have a lot of friends…) are either celebrating by going out with their friends, or staying up with their family, I’ve been here. Alone because my family is asleep because it’s just a new year. Just another day. And it is. But it would be nice to have at least one person to stay up with. One person. That’s all. After my sister moved out, I’ve felt alone whenever I’m at home. I’ve really felt alone most of my life. Whether it’s through school, or social situations, or home life, or even through myself, I kind of just feel isolated. Maybe that comes from living in a remote area my entire life and going to small schools and having hobbies in areas that not many other people that I knew partook in. Maybe it’s the people. I just… have never really felt… wanted. Maybe needed is a better word? I want to be that person that people remember. The one that people want to have around. I don’t care about being popular, I stopped caring about that when I knew I would never be popular in middle school. The revelations of having no friends in a class of 45. Even at the Academy, when I was a stage manager for the shows, and the shows and directors relied on me to keep the show together and moving, I never felt needed. I’ve always been a thankless job. I enjoy stage management, and I enjoy cooking for a profession. Both of those are thankless. Both of them need to be done by someone. I like them, but I would also like recognition for them. I’m selfish like that, you could say. But I don’t want to be an afterthought. I want to be the thought.
I understand that people have their own lives, and those lives don’t revolve around me. The only life that does revolve around me is my own. I don’t expect anyone to put me ahead of them. Which is sad, because I used to think that people would put others ahead of themselves. Like, making sure other people are happy before they are themselves happy. I used to think I was like that. And then something happened. I changed somehow. I slowly became more unhappy with myself as I sacrificed myself for them. I became unhappy with life. “Always look out for number one.” Yes. No matter what. I’ve some to the point where I don’t mind confronting someone. It’s not that I enjoy taking out stress on other people, it’s not that at all. I just want people to tell it how it is when necessary. I don’t need to know every one of your opinions. And you don’t need to know mine. You do you. Your life doesn’t effect mine. There are still a select few people to whom this doesn’t apply (my few friends, because their lives do effect mine), but that’s kind of where I’m going with this.
It’s after New Years. And I’m alone. Again. I was in the city last year, surrounded by one million people, but I felt alone. I feel forgotten this year. Roxie called me one year from a party to wish me a Happy New Year, and I kind of felt betrayed by that. I’m jealous of people who have real experiences and go out and celebrate with people and have a good time. Who have friends. Who have people that care about them. People who have the ability to do things like that. Because they can. I can’t because I live in the middle of nowhere and my friends are from the Academy, so they’re scattered across the country and around the world. And I have protective parents. And because the people scene really isn’t my thing anyway. So why do I care so much about this? I want to be wanted. I don’t want it to be, “Happy New Year” and that’s it. I want there to be more. I don’t want to be the last one to say something in a conversation that should have a response. I don’t want to be forgotten. I want to be needed.
So here I sit. Alone. Typing my thoughts to a blog that really no one reads. Except for a few avid readers. I guess you could argue that I could take steps towards being noticed, being remembered, but that’s not my point. If I initiated, then people would be forced to remember me, and in turn respond to me. I want it to be of their own will, that they want to talk to me, so they reach out to me. Are others waiting for that as well? Most likely. But I can’t focus on that if I can’t even get myself together. And because I don’t I don’t have the energy to even fake a conversation with anyone. I’m losing my train of thought, which is probably better in this case.
Well. Happy New Year.