Dodgeball in The Stuff That's Not Interesting But Is The Most Interesting Stuff I'll Write

I did something rather surprising the other day. In fact, I can’t think of another point in my life where I’ve ever made that choice. At the time, it didn’t seem that momentous, but in hindsight, I realize what a complete shift it was for me.

I was on the train, on my way out for a drink. While I was on the train, I happened to see my friend Sawyer. Now, I say “friend” rather loosely, as he’s more an acquaintance, but I actually somewhat like him so I feel like the upgrade is inevitable. I met him at an art exhibition a while ago, I noticed that he’s been photographed nude by Ark. Sometimes I think I’m the only person Ark never asked to photograph, and part of me wonders why.

I saw him on the train and as we were both getting off at the same spot, I went over and said hi.

That’s the big momentous thing I did.

Usually when I see people I know out in public, my inclination is to not say hello or make eye contact unless they do so first. I had been thinking about this particular behavior because it stems from a situation that seems almost extinct in current situations. I have always felt like a burden when I say hello to people or like knowing me is embarrassing.

That’s how people always made me feel when I was younger, so I just got in the habit of saving the other person, or people, from having to acknowledge I exist and share the same space here on planet Earth by simply pretending to not exist.

In fact, that is my default mode. To pretend I do not exist or to take up as little space as possible, out of politeness.

Sawyer of course did act like he had been burdened or put-out in any way, he was extremely pleasant. He was on his way home from work but decided to seek out refuge in Paragon until the deluge ended. I always forget that I’m practically the only person who loves going out and doing things in a monsoon.

He also wasn’t going home because the storm had caused a power outage at his apartment building. I told him that I wasn’t going anywhere noble, just somewhere to get vodka.

As time passed and I thought about that short, simple interaction, I realized that this is something that is a pattern in most of my relationships. I yield. I give up my seat. I silence myself. Not due to any pressure other than the pressure I put on myself.

People would behave one way around me and then behave completely contradictory when I left, and I always wondered what was wrong with me that made me so untrustworthy or what I exuded that meant you had to shift your entire personality to be around me.

It’s become increasingly clear to me how unsocialized I am. I just don’t know how to interact with people on a basic human level to establish base level relationships. My friendships with Sarah, Richard, Katie and a few others are literally the product of time passed, not any real time spent with one another. Even my romantic relationships are mostly because I was forced to spend time with another human being and that inability to escape forced us to have intimacy.

Part of me thinks it has so much to do with that same exact paranoia I spoke about earlier. Being raised as a pastor’s kid means being a paragon, not necessarily a human being. We are always watched, we have to be role models and express success and calmness at all times.

Oftentimes, I don’t ask questions because I hate being asked questions. Even basic things like “what do you do for a living” seem like deeply personal intrusions and things I would always avoid asking or answering. It’s not that I’m indifferent, in fact, I’m usually quite interested, but I find the desire to know incredibly off-putting so I usually don’t ask.

So my politeness keeps me from saying hello, making eye contact, engaging in conversation or asking personal questions.

When you write it down like that, it seems perfectly understandable that I would hate social interactions so much. Going out for a drink or having dinner is like a game of dodgeball.