somewhere along the line in the last few weeks, i forgot how to be alone. my huge apartment seems way too small, the moments of silence seem a lot louder than the hours of socializing. i've always clung to the idea that despite all my other random fuckups, my interactions with others were based mostly on my own desire to be helpful, to do good, to learn and heal and grow by sharing. now i don't know. i feel like i keep grabbing onto other people to keep myself from falling down. and sure, for all those other reasons too, but they suddenly aren't as important. i'm not sure if i can face the idea that i am basically, well, selfish. but it's probably true, even if i pretend it's not.

it's a problem that gets exacerbated the more time i spend with people i like. so what's the answer to that? avoiding people so you don't hurt them (and inevitably hurting yourself in the process) is such a cliche answer. but what the fuck else is there to do?

for awhile there, i was just happy in my little hidey-hole. because i had convinced myself that's the only choice i had, and so i adapted to it. now that it's not the only choice i have, and i can't keep pretending it is without pulling a major self-delusion, i've realized that i basically just don't have the emotional intelligence required to be around people in relationships that involve more than really shallow interaction.

i simultaneously feel like a) i make things into much bigger deals than they are and b) when i don't, life is really, really empty most of the time. no good way to reconcile those things.