I have always had extremely intense friendships. I've never had many at once, because I put a lot of myself into relationships.
I don't know how not to. I've always been drawn to intensity. I still am.
The thing is, it took me years to realize that I was also drawn to crazymakers. Those people who suck you in and make you all about their issues. And you spend all your time focusing on them which is kind of cool when you're in all kinds of denial, because that way you effectively avoid dealing with your own shit.
It's not that it was what made me happy, and it certainly wasn't healthy; it was just very familiar.
Plus I can look back and see that I myself did pleeeeeenty of crazymaking.
Thank God for therapy.
Years ago, when my friend Maude and I were in our very early 20s, we lived together in Mount Pleasant.
We were roommates for almost a year, until the serial rapist broke in. And then I went off to the Peace Corps and Maude went back to school and then she and I didn't live together until our late 20's, when she taught me how to drive stick (well, really, how to drive at all) and we drove from DC to San Diego.
Anyway, I can't remember which time it was that we lived together that what I'm about to tell you happened. But if you know my Maude stories, then you know that we've known each other since we were born (separate mothers, she always adds) and we have this very long history together.
Also, this is such a bigger lead-up than it merits, because I'm not going to say anything earth-shattering, but this is the only way that I can get to it.
At some point, someone was trying very hard to befriend me. I don't even remember who by now, probably because she and I never became friends. Because Maude sat me down and said, "You don't have room for her. You only have enough for one high maintenance friend, and that person is me."
Or something to that effect. And I was all, "She's right. I've got no room for this woman." It was very clear. And that was that.
Which brings me to this. I have a lot of stuff going on right now. Things I can't write about even though I would really like to, because I just can't. Although when they're over or different, then I will, and it will be a relief. But for now, I'm full, and I'm tired.
I'm not trying to be all mysterious or cryptic. You know I'm about as good at opaque as a glass of water.
But what this all means is that I've been backing away from blogging a bit, and from my blogging relationships. Because, true to my nature, the blogs and bloggers I love are the intense ones. The ones who talk about emotional things, who pull me in, who make me care.
If I don't care, I don't care.
But it takes a certain amount of energy to care, and while I give it gladly, I don't currently have any extra.
And this is where I am right now. It's not that I don't adore you. It's just that I only have room for one high maintenance person in my life right now, and that person (besides my entire family, I mean) is me.