A Moment

Last week, I went over and had dinner with some friends. They invited me, and a few other people, out of recognition for us hosting them when their heat went out. It was a lovely evening, with great food, mediocre wine, and good, relaxing times, on a Tuesday night.

Late in the evening, one of the friends turned to me and said something, I don't remember what, but I think it had to do with where they are this weekend, and how I'm not there, but going to my parents' house instead. (Because it's lunar New Year.)

In response, I said, "You only think I'm interesting b/c you don't know me as well as everyone else."

"[Hap]," he said, but didn't say, "I don't think you're allowed to say you're on the outside of this group of friends. It's been long enough."

The full impact of that statement hit me just today. Or maybe it's just my snot-filled head making shit up. I don't know. But I see other people's close group of friends and I call it insularity. (Although, as objective as I can be, there is some of that, too.) Then I look at my life and I realize, there is this group of people who are inviting me to be in their lives, and I have created some self-imposed outsideness.

I don't think I want to belong. I just want my friends, pick and choose them, and keep them distant and let them in when it's handy. I don't know. I've never been a big fan of letting people get to know me. Letting them in too much. I'm not sure I'm going to change this, but at the very least, I need to be aware of how I let it effect the way I see things.

Did I mention that I'm sick?