Me and the Tin Man.
- hannahshilling
- May 5
- 2 min read
Unfortunately, things are piling up.
I think I spoke of a dying friendship before. Well, I sent out a candle a few days ago to see if it was time to try and revive it. The candle was seen but not cared for. And that’s where I’m at.
I wrote a blog post the other week but be glad this is not it. It was a lot.
There’s been a string of dates in recent months after an uncharacteristic desire for a relationship. All have left me feeling nothing. I’m at the point where I’m stuck between thinking I really don’t fancy people even once in a blue moon and thinking whether I’m just not a relationship person. How can people be?
I can get lost quite contently in my own head – in my own company.
A question that always comes up on a first date is:
“So what do you like to do?”
What a horrible question. And I always let them know this. My answer is to shrug, look off into the middle-distance and go:
“I don’t know.”
On my last date, my date monologued at me for 5ish minutes about what was his 5-10 year plan. It involved saving up for a house and deciding where to buy said house. He then turned to me and asked what I wanted. Again, a shrug.
“To be happy?”
I wasn’t trying to rise a laugh out of him. I don’t have the money to be thinking of such big things like houses (who’d have them, anyway?) and cars so my near-future-thinking for the past three years has been short-term. If you know me, I’m built for short-term fun. I’m impulsive, I like entertaining people and spending money on making my friends happy. Because life is short and my bank account certainly knows that.
But in reflection, my answer was incredibly sad. It reminded me that I’ve been in the situation where even happiness can be a privilege and that you’re damn lucky to have it. So, yes, I always only aspire to be happy.
All the things that have been piling up have been incidents where someone trusted – foolishly, now – have misread me, misdiagnosed me and left me out of the picture when it comes to those long-term plans of theirs. Not that I want to be in those long-term plans, not anymore, but I think it’s winded me that such yellow-brick paths are stretching ahead of me and I’m stuck in the short story. Pushed aside.
Caring about those who no longer care about you is silly but can’t be helped sometimes, especially as some happiness was once tied to them.
In better news, Doctor Who has been really good recently and my friend is returning in 2 weeks.
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