Making friends was never easy for me. If I’m honest, I guess I’d have to say I was never all that interested. As an active alcoholic, I didn’t appreciate having folks around holding me accountable. I wasn’t good at making plans. Even worse at following through. Not having anyone expecting me to be anywhere or do anything was ideal. It kept my commitments to an absolute minimum. Allowed plenty of time to drink and ample time to recover.
Now that I’m sober, I’m still not particularly thrilled with the idea of making friends. Just because Merlot and I are no longer together doesn’t mean I’m ready to get into a new relationship. I can’t imagine anyone ever taking Merlot’s place. I wouldn’t want anyone to. That relationship was sacred. I plan on honoring it for the rest of my sober days. Sure, our breakup still hurts like hell, but I feel like the pain is all I have left of her.
In my heart of hearts, I know I can’t go on like this indefinitely. And I have actually found myself being friendlier with strangers at the supermarket. Isn’t that pathetic? My entire social life revolves around the freshness of produce. Hey, it’s something. Used to be a time I wouldn’t talk to anyone. Now I find myself engaging in small talk in the check-out line or offering my empty cart to the old man emerging from the car parked next to mine.
It’s odd I tell you. Who knows, maybe one day soon I’ll expand my social life to include the regular patrons at a local coffee shop or sign up for some sort of class or something. Don’t push me, though. I’m not 100% sure I’m ready to commit to any new relationships. But it would be nice to talk about something other than the bananas being too green or reporting a spill in aisle 19. Chatting it up about a political scandal or comparing projects in process with a fellow crafter almost sounds appealing.
Except I don’t follow politics all that closely and I’ve never been the crafty sort. But who knows? Maybe now that I have all this time on my hands, I will develop some outside interests. It would give me something to talk about. How can I ever hope to have an actual conversation with someone if I don’t have anything to say? I mean, how many people out there are really interested in the verbal clutter in my head?
Well, apparently I think someone might be. Otherwise, why would I have started blogging? Maybe I’m delusional, but on some level I really do believe people are interested in what I have to say—even if it isn’t about politics or my latest craft project. I know I’ve have actually come to enjoy other blogs. Some so much I’ve chosen to follow them. Their authors make for great companions out here in cyber space. They keep me honest.
Whoa. Did I just say I feel accountable to my fellow bloggers? Could it be that I have been making friends all along and didn’t even know it? Well, it apparently is possible, because I do continue to be delighted with each and every one of them. They are the folk behind the “Blogs Beyond the Brine” and I guess one could say they are my friends. I know I like them a lot, am interested in what they say and would be genuinely concerned if they shared a problem they were having.
Go figure. I must be enjoying this blogging thing. I’m even making friends.