Pitfalls of Self-Overreliance

The problem with always relying on myself is that I don't give myself a chance to bond with anybody. Usually, I'm totally okay with that. Just peachy, even. I am thoroughly a loner and comfortable in my own company. Except when it looks weird to be so not wanted by anybody else. In those cases, it's kind of embarrassing.

Most people assume that individuals who are comfortable being at the center of attention, public speaking, etc. are also socialites.  Not true.

My mother, a social creature, is generously organizing a Bon Voyage party for Caspian and I to take place next weekend. She asked us for the e-mail addresses of several close friends, to whom she'd send e-vites.

I busily sat down to make my list, looked at my e-address book, thunked for a few minutes, and realized that there is only a single person in my life around here who would particularly care that I'm leaving (Kokopelli). The handful-minus-two people (apart from family) who truly care about me already live in faraway lands. There might be a few who would put up a friendly front to help me save face, but nobody but she who would shed a tear, or miss my company, or reckon my value to them beyond the hors d'oeuvres and drinks offered. To invite any of the people I'm "friendly" with would be an awkward overreaction to not-quite-friendships, an assumption of closeness and mutual vulnerability that just isn't there.

And apparently I don't realize it -- or care -- until somebody else tries to organize a party on my behalf.  Most people die of heart attacks and cancer and strokes, but I think I'm in more danger of dying of apathy.

Luckily, Caspian has enough close buddies for the both of us, and the crowd won't be too thin.