Yep, it’s three in the morning, and I’m still awake.
And, for some god-forsaken reason, watching Next on MTV. Don’t ask. I don’t know. I feel about eighty years older than these kids on the show.
I’m questioning my actions and my behavior lately. The homesickness is rearing it’s ugly head again. I’m missing my family, my friends, my old neighbors & neighborhood haunts; even my therapist.
This life here still seems so foreign. I’ve tried reaching out to make friends, but I haven’t had too much success. While I’ve always done well charming acquaintances, it’s harder to make friends. (I’m not saying life-long pour your heart out friends although I don’t have one) I mean meet for coffee / lunch or hit a movie together friends.
My mother has always thought my expectations of friends is too high. I expect a friend to be the kind of friend I am. I feel like the best kind of friend when I’m helping you throw a party, or watching your kids, or bringing food when someone close to you passes away. But, this means I attract needy friends sometimes, because I need to be needed.
And, it’s hard for me to let people in. Most people know the ‘glossy Kate’. Long ago, a man I loved, unrequited, coined it because I’m good at glossing over. I hold it in, show the world the pretty picture, and only let it go with those I trust.
For example: Obvious one here, my marriage. No one would question the strength of our relationship, because I’m skilled at making it look good. Would our family and friends know we sleep in different beds or at different times? Would they guess we haven’t had sex in years? Would they think the happiest time in our marriage was when we were in two different cities? Nope.
I’ve glossed over this, and infertility treatments, miscarriages, adoption heartbreak, cancer diagnosis, chemo, dog retirement. I’m always fine.
Perhaps sharing a little of what’s beneath the glossy surface would help me in the quest for a friend. Then again, maybe I just need to wait for people who get me, like I had at home.