in which i lament my lack of friends
There was this episode in one of the early seasons of Six Feet Under about a woman who died and had no friends at all. She had a very regimented, solitary life and she died one day at her kitchen table while eating. She choked. No one knew she was dead until people in neighboring apartments could smell her. No friends expected her anywhere, no family came looking for her, I think she even had some kind of solo job. I think I could be that woman.
I've always managed to keep at least a lover/girlfriend of some kind in my life, so I've never had to feel so alone, but I'm noticing now, as SK and I slide further apart and I have some evenings at home alone, that I have lived in Portland for over five years and I no longer have close friends. None. How did this happen? How did I get to be 31 years old with no close friends? Where are my friends from high school? College? Other places I've lived? Other times in my life? Where are my friends from the past five years, here in town? Where are my friends?
I guess I haven't maintained the friendships. I dated a woman we'll call Dolly (for reasons I won't explain but you can probably imagine) after I'd been in town for almost a year. I knew her from work and for almost two years we had a pretty nice little arrangement. Me and Dolly, Hoot and Andree, DJ and Jennifer, MAP and Pocahontis, we were four couples who all worked together and hung out together. We had potlucks and fondue parties and lots of wild nights in dive bars drinking gallons of Pabst and playing pin-ball. We had a good time. A really good time.
Of course, I was never all that happy with Dolly in terms of our relationship and when I left her in November of 2003, I lost almost all of those friends. I only just temporarilly forfeited Hoot and Andree, but years later, even though they like me and gave me a place to stay after I left CB last winter, we never hang out. Hoot asked me one night at Chez What (boy do I miss that place) if I'd still be his friend after I went to law school. This must have been during the summer of 2003 before I started school. I hesitated for a moment then answered, honestly, "I don't know."
I didn't know because I knew I wanted my life to change a lot and I knew I didn't want to look up in four years and find myself still sitting around in bars drinking too much and playing pin-ball for fun. I looked at Hoot that night and wasn't sure we had much more "friendship" between us besides good times. How many friends do *you* have who are real, deep and genuine -- not just based on beer drinking and pot-lucks?
I don't know what's normal, but I use SK as an example of what seems healthy and she has at least three really good friends in her regular life, plus several pretty good friends and some really good friends from the past she's only in contact with irregularly. They share history, mutual concern, affection, love. They care about each other, they make time for each other, they enjoy each other's company, the rely on each other.
After five years here, I have: Leo from college who is wonderful for lots of reasons, but who is not a close friend; Waspy from school, who is fun to argue with and who was really there for me when I was leaving CB, but whose life is very far from mine and will remain so; a handful of acquaintances and old faces I never see anymore; folks with potential that never materialized; a couple of ex-girlfriends I don't want to see; some coworkers I can just barely tolerate, scores of mentally ill clients from work and, last but certainly not least, SK. However, even as "girlfriends" (at this point a debatable designation for us) I can't expect SK to be my only friend, to shoulder all the duties of friendship, when she, herself, has plenty of friends. It's unbalanced and unfair.
All this points me in one direction: a donkey farm in Spain. Again, if I'm going to be lonely in my own town, I may as well go risk *not* being lonely somewhere new and interesting. This year I have learned something very valueable: I have been living in some kind of fog. I have been drifting. I have been clueless. I have to wake up and take control of something. I have to get out of here. And if I look up in a few more years and find myself somewhere still with no friends, I'll make sure to get a goddamn apartment that allows pets. Then I can be just like my mom, holed up in my house, just me and the dog, watching the sci-fi channel and eating too much. Perfect.
I've always managed to keep at least a lover/girlfriend of some kind in my life, so I've never had to feel so alone, but I'm noticing now, as SK and I slide further apart and I have some evenings at home alone, that I have lived in Portland for over five years and I no longer have close friends. None. How did this happen? How did I get to be 31 years old with no close friends? Where are my friends from high school? College? Other places I've lived? Other times in my life? Where are my friends from the past five years, here in town? Where are my friends?
I guess I haven't maintained the friendships. I dated a woman we'll call Dolly (for reasons I won't explain but you can probably imagine) after I'd been in town for almost a year. I knew her from work and for almost two years we had a pretty nice little arrangement. Me and Dolly, Hoot and Andree, DJ and Jennifer, MAP and Pocahontis, we were four couples who all worked together and hung out together. We had potlucks and fondue parties and lots of wild nights in dive bars drinking gallons of Pabst and playing pin-ball. We had a good time. A really good time.
Of course, I was never all that happy with Dolly in terms of our relationship and when I left her in November of 2003, I lost almost all of those friends. I only just temporarilly forfeited Hoot and Andree, but years later, even though they like me and gave me a place to stay after I left CB last winter, we never hang out. Hoot asked me one night at Chez What (boy do I miss that place) if I'd still be his friend after I went to law school. This must have been during the summer of 2003 before I started school. I hesitated for a moment then answered, honestly, "I don't know."
I didn't know because I knew I wanted my life to change a lot and I knew I didn't want to look up in four years and find myself still sitting around in bars drinking too much and playing pin-ball for fun. I looked at Hoot that night and wasn't sure we had much more "friendship" between us besides good times. How many friends do *you* have who are real, deep and genuine -- not just based on beer drinking and pot-lucks?
I don't know what's normal, but I use SK as an example of what seems healthy and she has at least three really good friends in her regular life, plus several pretty good friends and some really good friends from the past she's only in contact with irregularly. They share history, mutual concern, affection, love. They care about each other, they make time for each other, they enjoy each other's company, the rely on each other.
After five years here, I have: Leo from college who is wonderful for lots of reasons, but who is not a close friend; Waspy from school, who is fun to argue with and who was really there for me when I was leaving CB, but whose life is very far from mine and will remain so; a handful of acquaintances and old faces I never see anymore; folks with potential that never materialized; a couple of ex-girlfriends I don't want to see; some coworkers I can just barely tolerate, scores of mentally ill clients from work and, last but certainly not least, SK. However, even as "girlfriends" (at this point a debatable designation for us) I can't expect SK to be my only friend, to shoulder all the duties of friendship, when she, herself, has plenty of friends. It's unbalanced and unfair.
All this points me in one direction: a donkey farm in Spain. Again, if I'm going to be lonely in my own town, I may as well go risk *not* being lonely somewhere new and interesting. This year I have learned something very valueable: I have been living in some kind of fog. I have been drifting. I have been clueless. I have to wake up and take control of something. I have to get out of here. And if I look up in a few more years and find myself somewhere still with no friends, I'll make sure to get a goddamn apartment that allows pets. Then I can be just like my mom, holed up in my house, just me and the dog, watching the sci-fi channel and eating too much. Perfect.
posted by reasonably prudent poet at 7:55 PM
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