Connections

I get pretty lonely sometimes.

Obviously I’m not alone in that, but I wonder if anyone else is as stupid about it as I am, which is to say: when I feel lonely, I isolate myself. Here’s what I mean: last month, I went to visit my sister in New Orleans and then my best friend in Bellingham, and right up until I got off the plane I was dreading it.

And I was so very lonely.

Surprising no one but me, I had a wonderful time with my sister. We hung out and went out and stayed home and talked and shouted Kendrick lyrics at the television (yes, I was in New Orleans for the SuperBowl. No, I did not go). And then I got on the plane to go to Bellingham, and I dreaded it again.

You’d think I’d have learned, right? That these are people I love and they love me, too?

The trouble with being lonely is that you start to feel like it’s your natural state. And you start to think that other people don’t want to be around you (even though they cheered when you offered to come visit). And I think this is a function of loneliness (and also of depression, because let’s be real, I definitely had/have that going on, too. Who doesn’t these days amirite?) but I think I had this thought that everything needed to be Meaningful. We needed to Create Art together (this is also a function of how I’m feeling uncreative lately, but more on that another time) and Have Profound Discussions, and when I got there we watched a lot of improv on Dropout TV.

And that made me feel awful. I felt like all my fears were true, and we were watching so much tv because they didn’t really want to talk to me and it would all have been better if I’d just stayed home. (Really kinda hoping my friends don’t read this, but if you do - keep going!)

I don’t know what made me calm down. It wasn’t anything I said or did, or anything they said or did. We never talked about what I was feeling, which is good because turns out only I was feeling it. Somehow or other, my anxiety and loneliness faded, and I remembered - oh right. We don’t need to Have Profound Discussions, because we’ve already had them. There’s nothing my friends aren’t sharing with me, because the things we want to say come out when we pause the TV to react to something Brennan Lee Mullligan is ranting about. When we talk over That Terrible Anya-Taylor Joy movie (you know the one I mean, I can’t be bothered to look up the title), when we do sit down and write together but without the pressure of Creating Art, instead just because that’s what happens when we’re together. And I remembered that ease is something you can feel when you’re not lonely, and that ease in friendships is perhaps the most valuable thing.
 
I wish I could tell you I learned my lesson. (I didn’t). While I was away I made plans with another friend to hang out over zoom and when I got home guess what I did that’s right you guessed it I canceled those plans.

Only I didn’t cancel, I rescheduled, and then I actually stuck to it. And we talked for hours about nothing important. We talked about Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s appalling haircut and neckbeard situation (and not for the first time, either) and good books and what it’s like to age in jiujitsu years (like rock and roll years, only harder on the joints).

And I’ll probably have to relearn this a bunch more times, but I can remember it right now because I’m (temporarily) not lonely anymore: the little unimportant things are where we find connection. The little joys are what sustain us, and what allows us to be there when the big sadnesses come, as they do.

This isn’t really much of a Profound Discussion—Breaking news! Joy in the little things helps!!—but it felt like a revelation for me, to apply that to connections, as well. (I’m sure I knew it at some point, but the perils of loneliness, etc.) Anyway. Here are the little things I take joy in:

NYT Connections (I couldn’t resist, sorry)

Baldur’s Gate III (the sexy vampire elf is indeed a delight)

KJ Charles (The Will Darling Adventures, specifically. Featuring a Peaky Blinders-era Birmingham bloke in London who looks like a thug in a tuxedo. Eating it with a spoon).