Connect disconnect

[vaneramos]

It has been a strange week. Wednesday evening brought a wave of loneliness and alienation. Fortunately I had plans to attend a volunteer party at Out On The Shelf. I might have stayed home, except I had already promised to drive my friend, Lori. Before going, I baked gluten-free apricot shortbread tarts, one for me and one for her. Lori gave me the link a few weeks ago, and the tarts are delicious. Then we went to the party. It was talent night, so I read a couple poems. Sarah and Michele were there. Sarah played the Chariots of Fire theme on the kazoo, complete with slow-motion running. Hanging out with a few of my favourite geeky queers was half the antidote. Talking to Danny when I got home did the rest.

Another high school friend contacted me on Facebook this week. I took a deep breath (a day or two) and ended up spending most of last evening corresponding and reconnecting with her. I knew it would go fine, but these dialogues have so much potential to either throw me off or ground me. Thanks, Tina. We grew up in such a small town.

It reminded me how much of a divide there was between how people saw me, and what I experienced. I think I still have this problem. The difference is that in high school I deliberately hid because I feared rejection; now I don't intend to hide anything, I just fail to communicate effectively because I fear rejection. I'm getting better, but it's hard work. Sometimes I forget how far I've come; that I actually have friends I can be myself with. I can get hugs. With forgetfulness, the result is the same old thing: loneliness and alienation, I'm 16 and starving again.

Speaking of forgetfulness, this is peach season. Fresh local in-season peaches are my favourite food, seriously. The only close rivals are gourmet mushrooms, all kinds of cheese, and fresh apricots. Once peach season arrives, I begin to panic because it won't last forever. Sometimes I worry about it so much I forget to buy any. That's how my mind works. So far I've had a few this year, but not enough to satisfy until next July, and in winter I'd rather eat canned peaches than pathetic, tasteless, imported things.

I have a fantasy about filling the bathtub with peach slices and lying in it. I better head across the street to farmers' market first thing tomorrow morning.