Finishing High School, Pt. 2 (Warning: Bitchfest ahead)

I knew it would fucking happen.

I knew I would come to some shitty revelation about how I've lived my life over the past four years, even though I thought I had it nailed.  Maybe this just tells me, ultimately, that I am normal.  Because I'm a teenager, and teenagers think they know everything when in reality they don't know jack shit.

So where do I begin?  I've pretty successfully determined for myself that high school itself is mostly a daycare center for teenagers, except with guns.  I've sort of found my little niche in the vast expanse of maturing consciences (which is music, if you couldn't figure it out).  But I never understood the social construct.  Never.  And to be honest, I shouldn't have expected to.  I've been an awkward little kid ever since fourth grade, when I discovered what it was like to not have any friends. (This was when I moved to Portage, for the record.  It's a lot harder to adapt to that sort of shit as a nine-year-old than as a teenager.)  There were points when I appeared to have overcome complete social debilitation, but since I'm graduating with nobody to call a real "partner" (be it a girlfriend, best friend, or even an incredibly close friend), I'm settling on the side of "I never really figured out how to make friends and keep them."  And I was fine with that.  I figured that the blame for that rested entirely on my circumstances - the people I was with.  I wasn't meant to be paired with any one of them, but with someone else.  You wonder where I became so attached to the idea of soulmates?  It would be high school.  Also, Disney.

Anyway, I am horrifyingly wrong.  Right now, everyone I know is paired off with someone.  Not even necessarily with a romantic partner, but with an extremely close best friend.  Either way, it's the sort of relationship that I've always wanted.  The few that aren't, like myself, are completely lost.  There's not really anything that encapsulates the pain of not knowing where you belong in the world, and when you don't have anyone to share your life with, there is no sense of belonging.  I am the expert on loneliness, believe me.  This much is true. 

But the reason why it is wrong for me to believe that there is someone out there for me - literally waiting for me to walk into their life as I wait for them to walk into mine - is because everyone else I know has found someone.  I am not really special, so why should I be an exception?  Everyone else seems to have found someone even though none of them are perfect for each other (although to the cool loser like myself they certainly would appear to be perfect for each other).  The reason why this hasn't happened to me, as far as I can tell, is because, as a person, I spread myself much too thin.  Looking back, I realize that there are way too many people who think of me as a sort of gross caricature of a person.  A weird person, mind you, but not really anything with that many complexities.  Generally exuberant in person, but not necessarily happy.  Easily stressed.  Alternately makes witty jokes, idiotic comments and serious conversation.  The reason why this is as it is is because I hate drama.  The general social group from which I can choose friends are extremely dramatic.  But I can't hate them, because they're the only people I've got.  And I don't hate them.  Individually, everybody I consider my friend is magnificent.  But they also hate each other.  Petty disputes tear apart friendships left and right, including some of my own.

It raises the question as to why their lives are better than mine.  (If you just said, "No, Nigel.  Shut the fuck up, your life is better," please understand that my interpretation as to the quality of life is synonymous with one's happiness.  If you didn't notice, I'm not happy.  The last time I was truly happy was the month after I got back from tour.  So shut up and finish reading.)  It's because I'm flawed.  Very flawed.  That's not say that my revelation is that I'm flawed, because anyone who didn't think so in the first place is an asshole.  What I mean is that, while people, including myself, are generally satisfied with the person I am as can be described by my personality and résumé, I've been approaching the way in which I find friends the wrong way.  For eighteen long, long years.  The problem is with my way of thinking.

So I changed it.  I know now that you really do get to choose the people in your life.  I know that it's better to not be afraid of people not liking you, because you don't really need people to like you if they aren't willing to be with you when you need them.  I was really weak, and I was too scared of fucking up potential friendships to bother to try to get anyone to really understand me, or even to try to understand anyone individually.  It's clear to me that doing so would have allowed me to find someone who would make me happy.  And for that, I'm incredibly sorry.  I'm sorry to whoever could have been a kick-ass pal of mine for the last four years.  I'm sorry to any girl who would have loved me, and who I would have loved back.  I'm sorry I've regretted so damn much, if you want some irony with that shake.

I really fucked this up.  Sorry about the whinefest.