the exhaustion of enduring

It’s true; I’m an introvert. I find myself justifying this to people who know me, but who don’t yet know me well. Interaction exhausts me, but in a wonderful way. I spent a great game day with friends in Redwood City on Saturday, the first one I had attended in a while due to my own hesitance to make anything even more bizarre in my little social circle. I’m glad I worked past that. It was definitely worth it.

However, it left me exhausted on Sunday, the type of exhaustion that comes from extended interaction. I am an introvert, but the kind who can step through it to reach the rewarding parts of being around people.

Sunday evening brought me an unexpected, pleasant surprise in the form of dinner with Chad. It went well, except I don’t know how “well” works on our new barometer, and I am in wait-and-see mode, which can be so frustrating. We spent a good two hours catching up and making each other laugh with stories about our lives, and I was reminded of just how much I missed his company and friendship.

This phase, the “what comes next” phase, is so confusing and heart-wringing to me. It all gets so messy, this life, and nothing turns out the way I expected. I am trying to endure, but sometimes my introversion extends even into myself, and I know why I need escapist things like fiddling with my website until the wee hours. I need to be alone, in the silence with my cat’s contented purring the only sound between us. The voices – often associated with craaaazy people – are not so crazy; they are there, I live with them, and sometimes they shut up. Not often, but sometimes. We all endure that.

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I acknowledge that I live and work on stolen Cowlitz, Clackamas, Atfalati, and Kalapuya land.
I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.