5 days writing, 2 days sitting. I feel like I’m getting somewhere.
My plans for the winery fell through today – my friend ended up getting a really bad cold and needed to rest instead. I was relieved. Sometimes I wonder about myself.
An old friend, a former coworker from a different life, sent me a photo of him and another ex-coworker. It was taken at a party thrown by a third coworker from that time in my life. They hadn’t seen each other in years, but they still pull together once in a while.
In those days, with those coworkers, I had a bond. R would sometimes stop on his way home from work and I’d throw a frozen pizza in the oven. He’d pick up some beer, and we’d sit on my patio and eat and drink and he’d sometimes talk about the things that were weighing on his mind. In that odd way of life, there were things he could talk to me about that he couldn’t talk to others about because we weren’t close. He needed someone with a different perspective. He needed a little sanctuary, a little break from the issues he was dealing with at the time.
It was easy to spend that hour with him. I think it was good for us both.
Some of us would get together on Friday nights, usually going dancing.
I don’t know if it was that place, that time in my life, or those people, but somehow I was connected and it felt easy.
I used to see S and his wife almost every time I would go back to Arizona to see my parents. But then one visit he complained quite a bit about having to pick me up from the airport. I didn’t mention that I flew into Phoenix instead of Tucson specifically to make visiting my old friends easier, despite that it meant a 2 hour drive (each way, each leg) for my parents.
It changed things, to have this old friend complain about having to go 5 miles out of his way.
By chance, my visits with my parents ever since then have been outside of Arizona, but deep down I know that I will no longer make the effort for my Phoenix friends. I’ll be flying in and out of Tucson…whenever it is that I end up back in Arizona.
It’s not that I’m mad at S, but it definitely put things in perspective. I no longer feel an obligation to make room in my visit for them. And if I’m not making the effort, they certainly won’t. It’s a little sad, in a way, but at the same time it’s not.
One of the odd things about being an introvert that it has taken me a really *really* long time to grasp is that my perspective on friendship is different. It takes noticeable social energy to spend time with people. It’s different for an extrovert. This means that who I spend time with has more significance for me than it does for them.
I remember going back to Denver to visit some friends about a year after I moved here. I was a little surprised when one of my friends, someone I had thought was a close friend, someone I’d kept in touch with, made a comment that they were surprised I’d made it a point to see them on my visit. Their context was that these visits back are always busy, always filled with plans. Which was true. But the sub-context, which it took me a while to fully understand, is that they had no idea that I thought of them as close friends.
Sometimes I wonder if we ever have much of a clue what role we play in other people’s lives.
December 12, 2011 at 4:03 pm
This post really spoke to me.
I have a tendency to always wonder what role I am playing in the lives of others–especially those I call “friends.”
It always seems like I’m the one giving more–the one who remembers birthdays, to remembers to “stay in touch,” the one who tries to get the group of pals to meet up.
Frankly, I’m getting a little tired of it.
One woman I’ve known since we were in third grade said, “I always appreciate the effort you’ve made to stay in touch over the years.”
While I should probably take that as a compliment, in the spirit it was meant, there was a side to me that said, “Well, perhaps now it’s time YOU made more of an effort to stay in touch with ME.”
I’ve also had this happen: I visit someone I know, and we renew our closeness, but once I get home, pffftt! I don’t hear from them any more frequently.
Which does make me wonder, am I a bit player in their drama?
As I get older, I’m finding I don’t really want much of a social life. Maybe that’s a sign of depression…or maybe it’s a sign of becoming more comfortable with my own society.
December 12, 2011 at 7:14 pm
I’ve been on both sides of the keeping in touch dilemma, so I do have some sympathy for your 3rd grade friend – I’ve been that person!
And when I have been that person, I have truly appreciated the effort the other(s) have made to keep in touch, as I’m sure your friend does. But when I’ve been in your shoes, I’ve definitely gotten fed up.
I think it’s the kind of thing where we simply have to decide for ourselves: is it worth it? If it *is* worth making the effort, we need to do it with no expectations. (Easier said than done, I know.) And if we decide it’s not worth it and stop making the effort, we have to be okay with the fact that it might mean the friendship fades away completely.
There are some things we can do to find a middle way. With the get-togethers, picking a time and place that works for *you* instead of trying to find something that’s perfect for everyone.
I guess it comes down to putting forth the effort that you can afford to spend on them, and knowing when enough is enough.
To some degree, yes, we’re always a bit player in their drama. It has to be this way, really, and when we see it from that perspective, well, I don’t know if it makes it sadder or just easier. Or both.
I’ve gotten less social in some ways as I’ve gotten older too, and it makes me wonder. I know it’s not depression in my case, and I’ve always been comfortable with just myself for company… I wouldn’t care on any level except for wondering/worrying whether it’s like a muscle I’m letting atrophy. There are a lot of things in life that are easier when you have more social energy, or so it seems to me. So I worry about getting out of “shape” for socializing. But … meh, not worth worrying about too much, just something I think about as a sort of reality check for myself.
December 19, 2011 at 10:00 pm
Just a postscript here. I saw a longtime friend late last week, and aside from the perfunctory “how are you?” she proceeded to yak for two hours about her life, her siblings, her other friends, etc. What really killed me was her going on and on about travel, plane tickets to California, beautiful homes she had visited. I guess she missed all those Facebook posts on how I’m broke and on food stamps. Either that or she is a sadist.
December 21, 2011 at 8:19 pm
Ugh, aside from her lack of sensitivity about how hard it would be for you to hear about the money she is throwing around, I don’t get how people can have a monologue for 2 hours and not have a clue that maybe they’re being a little self-centered!