I Refuse to Join Any Club That Would Have Me as a Member

With Halloween approaching and no plans in sight, all I can think about is how much I miss my friends.  I miss our late night shenanigans, smashing our heads on tables, wiping out on the sidewalk, the never-ending battle of the wits and slinging insults.  I miss those smartass comments and snarky grins.  I miss those friends who said goodbye to me multiple times before I moved, who were upset I didn’t see them one last time before I left.

I’ve talked about how difficult it can be to make friends.  I’ve always had great people in my life, people with whom I fit in very specific ways, ways that will undoubtedly make them stick with me throughout life.  But they aren’t friends that fit in every way.

They are people will always be there, no matter how far away they are.  They’re a constant.  They have helped shape who I am.  They are part of me, no matter what.  I love them, but I don’t miss them.  I don’t need to miss them, because they are always with me.  But they exist away from me.

I am impatient and easily annoyed.  I prefer to spend the majority of my time alone.  Socializing is exhausting.  It is a rare person that I enjoy spending time with.  It takes a person that I can be a bitch to who will be just as big of an asshole back.  The only people I can truly stand are the ones who can truly stand me.

A year ago, I finally found friends who do.  What in the world was I thinking, leaving them?

Everything changed the moment that I realized those kinds of friends exist.  It was kind of terrible, actually.  I suddenly understood what I’d been missing all this time.  Knowing what I could have now makes it that much harder to not have it.  Sure, I’d give anything for any sort of friends right now, but what I’d really like are my people. The ones who get it.  Knowing that they’re out there makes it impossible to settle.

Sure, it was terrible, but it was also the best.  There’s nothing like exchanging mediocre, fake friends for these new, majestic beings.  It’s kind of great to have people who like you for the weird creep that you are, odds and ends and all.  After all, they’re weird creeps too.  It’s nice to know that you are not alone in your own unusual existence.

It was realizing that I’m fine the way I am.  Of course I always knew that, logically, but it’s one thing to be bombarded with that message and another to actually experience it.  I am me, and there are people like me who like me.  People who will put up with me, even when I fuck up a stupid joke.

Even when I accidentally punch them.

Hey.  Miss you guys.


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