Sides of the Glass…

Heh… Well, I joined MySpace a while ago. I only bothered with contacting three people. I got a response from one. She is doing well; I admitted I knew about all the things she relayed to me because I was aware of her page for quite some time now.
Tonight, another girl I contacted sent me a message. She asked me how I was, where I was and what is up. I told her in simplest forms. She told me where she lived and asked about us meeting someday. I told her my position on that. I also admitted a fault of mine – I’m boring as hell and would suck as a host.
She responded about talking on the phone and left me her number. That rather put me at loss. It was a semi-helpless, semi-sad sort of loss. I replied. I spoke more of my bad points and explained my leeriness of using the phone. After sending that message I came here to write it down.
Heh… Fuel’s “Bittersweet” just now ended. How suiting that is.
Anyway, all of this just reminds me of my awkwardness. Before her response, I had thought about my three friends from my childhood. I thought of how they grew up and what sort of people they are now. I thought to myself,
“They all seem to have grown up and chose similar paths. It seems I was the misfit out of them.”
It is true. All of them are normal. That in turn reminded me of my endless story. I never tried to make my character like me, but looking back… she really is. I could not help but see the scene I wrote.

“Still though, she felt isolated despite physically she was not. Everyone she knew… their lives seemed so strange to her. They were beautiful even though the people who lived such existences found their lives to be mundane and boring.
Her gaze softened. She envied them. She never did quite feel human before, but living with people… “Normal” was so depressing for her at times. Their problems, fears, aspirations, dreams, recollections, identities… She doubted any of her friends realized that. She also had trouble at labeling people friends. That was foreign to her as well…”

That feeling is present. It is somewhat sad, wistful, calm and almost numbing. It is the same feeling the song “Bittersweet” gives me. It is the feeling of looking outside from inside. The only thing that separates is a pane of glass.
Heh…
I wonder if I just create a self-fulfilling prophecy. I wonder if I just keep myself away from others because of self-imposed beliefs. Then there is the “experience”, however. There is the logic.
When looking at how our conversation was going, I thought, “I just wanted to know that you are alright.” I seem to be that way with all my past relationships. Looking at it, it seems I obviously care for those who have touched my life, but I feel I will never fit in there physically.
A Watcher.
I remember using that phrase back in late middle school. I might have been fourteen. That is the word I used to describe how I felt. I would look after and love from afar… because I just couldn’t up close. I couldn’t function in the world of those I cared for.
The bad points I admitted to her were all the things I am fine with by myself. Telling them to her, however… left me feeling helpless. I know she isn’t the girl I remember and I am most certainly not the friend she recalls.
I wrote somewhere in the message switching, “I hope I have not disappointed you.”
I really meant those words.
Heh. My eyes are watery.