Confessions from a girl with a cold

Random Dream: Last night, I dreamed I was living in DC. In the dream, I had just returned from a trip and found that the concierges & my neighbors were celebrating a spring holiday. To keep me included, one lady had bought a gift in my name, so I could be part of the gift exchange. Thus, behind the desk, to my surprise, there were piles of gifts with my name on them. Earlier in the dream, I had learned my last day there would be June 30th. I was saddened to have to leave. And then, as I rode the elevator to my apartment with gifts in tote, I learned that all summer activities at my apartment would begin the weekend of July 8th. Then, to add insult to injury, the first celebration would include a Creole-style feast. In this dream, despite all of the good feelings of friendship, I was still an outsider. The other people in the complex were still the college students, the foreign ambassadors, and the locales. But in that dream, and in my reality in DC, I had enjoyed the role of outsider. I was a short-term visitor, and therefore expected to be a loner. I was accepted. I woke up.

Random Thought: The other day I was conversing with someone originally from San Diego and I passed along the advice, “if being back in San Diego would be so magical, why won’t you just move back?” And as the words escaped my lips, I heard the question enter my heart. Days later, I can’t remember who I said it to, but the question still lingers. I live in Los Angeles County because it’s almost like San Diego -- just without the emotional commitment. Living in LA is an approximation. People often say that something about Los Angeles is superficial; something from Hollywoodland spills over into the rest of the city. It’s a pleasant place to live. The weather is nice, the people are nice, and there are nice things to do. Yet, there’s no one here that forces me to live my life to its fullest, or will challenge me when I just gloss over things, so instead I live a life that simply highlights what I secretly long for. My life reflects art; pretty, but there’s often not much beneath the glossy surface.

My psych friends would say “Alayne, because you moved around a lot as a child, you never learned to form deep relationships.” A therapist might add, “Since you weren’t raised with blood relatives, there was no one that you were forced to have lifelong bonds with.” The combination is that all of your relationships are temporary, conditional, and/or situational. As an adult, my life is filled with associates and a smaller circle of friends. Permeating the “close friend barrier” is an improbability. When people get close, I suddenly have a ton of work, classes to complete, a trip out of town, a cold, a migraine, a something… a something that keeps a barrier around my body and heart keeping people from getting too close. And if all else fails, there’s always my “manipulative bitch” fallback that gets triggered  in a moment’s notice. Nothing like being a jerk to immediately alienate yourself!

My confession is that in my heart I want to have a deep sense of connection and love. I want close friends that I can share my deepest, darkest secrets – who will accept me warts and all. I want a partner with whom I share deep love and passion. I want to be with my family, with whom I have to accept their good and bad all up close and personal. Though I'm fortunate those aforementioned friends are a lot more warm-hearted and generous of their friendship than I appreciate at times; I still miss my family and a desire a deeper sense of attachment. And I've made San Diego symbolize those things that I am missing.