more and more

More and more, I am confused by everything. I feel cut off, on the outside. I am a spy in the house of normal. Yes, one might query, what is normal anyway? Indeed. I can tell you, only, that I am not normal, I am not whole, I am not like other people.

This time of year is most especially alienating to me.

Other people seem to have their lives, well, peopled with people. Conversations, luncheon parties, plans. But me, I spend my days alone, in a kind of silence. Things are never really silent here inside me because I am always talking to myself. But people rarely actually talk to me.

I have a lot of fine encounters with people at bustops and in coffeeshops. Why? Because this is where I intersect with other humans. I don't see people in their homes. I don't make dates to get together. I go along all year mostly content with being alone virtually all the time.

But this time of year, I begin to bleed. It starts, of course, with Thanksgiving. Everyone, yes, everyone who knows me, knows I have been alone on Thanksgiving since I lsot my daughter but no one has invited me to share that day with them. From my perspective, I feel like there is some magic elixir that other people know about that makes them worthy of face-to-face.

I have lots of friends who read my emails. And a very few who write them back to me. I have friends who read this blog. People love me.

But somehow, and I know I am to blame, I am always alone.

There is something about me that others can see that I do not see that says "Stay away from her, leave her alone, she is not an object for your attention of affection."