Probably every day when I’m alone, I reflect on what happened socially that day. I guess I don’t really think about what I did at work much, or what I did when I was by myself. It’s the things that other people say or do or something I did or said around someone else that I scrutinize.

Sometimes I’ll go over something I feel like I figured out about some social situation. Something subtle that probably few people if anyone that was there noticed. Tonight in the shower I had such a moment, and it made me laugh. It wasn’t really that big a deal; just something someone did today that I picked up on and realized why they did it. But it’s like a little victory for me when I feel like I know what someone else is thinking about just by observing them.

I get a small satisfaction out of feeling like I understand things about someone that they probably wouldn’t ever have thought I’d understand. I remember something someone said about me in college that I’m kinda proud of: “Quiet guys know everything.” Maybe they were being sarcastic, but I like to think otherwise, heh.

I obviously feel like my empathy is pretty good, but it could also be complete bullshit. I’d be an idiot not to think that I could be wrong. I’m sure that sometimes I come to a conclusion that I wish was true. Sometimes I’m a little too eager to comfort someone when I feel like I know what they’re going through; I’m too eager to try to connect with them in a deep emotional way. That kind of thing can’t be forced, and yet I try to sometimes. I feel better about it when I just keep my observations mostly to myself.

My main flaw is that I try to fit people’s situations into a similar powerful experience that I felt, so that I can relate to them; so that I can connect with them. Sometimes I might be partially right, but I feel like I’m wrong most of the time. When I’m wrong, I feel like an ass.

I’m a feeler. I always have been. I connect to people emotionally. I probably always will. I can’t think of how it would be any other way.

Tonight we had another game night. It was fun. A story came up about me though that I would not have brought up in the company I was in; someone else brought it up. I’m sure that they didn’t really approve, and they might look at me a little differently now.

It’s something that happened that I’m not really ashamed of. If anything I’m just a little disappointed that they know about it and maybe a little concerned that they were offended. But hey, that’s part of who I am. I have enough self-esteem now not to be ashamed of that. I am who I am, and I love myself. I don’t need to justify it like I would have done a few years ago.

I feel like that’s a sign of how far I’ve come. It’s one of the reasons why I’m candid in blog posts (or as candid as I feel like I can be). I used to go back and delete blog posts the day after, because maybe I had written them in the heat of some emotion I was feeling. I’ve trained myself not to do that anymore for the very reason that I shouldn’t be ashamed of who I am. For better or for worse. If someone sees a post or hears a story that makes them change their view of me, then that just means that they’re changing their view to be a little closer to who I really am.

Occasionally I think about starting an anonymous blog somewhere under a pseudonym, so that I can rant and rave and express all of the darker thoughts I have without fear of guilt or discovery. I could change all the names so that it would be harder for someone to figure it out, even if they happened to stumble upon my secret thoughts. Would that really be beneficial? Would it help me solve my internal conflicts if I could see my thoughts in writing? Maybe I should try it and see. Or would it be damaging if the filters I have in place that keep me from lashing out have been removed?

Some might advise me to keep a private journal. The reason why I never really took to private journaling is because I want to feel like people know how I feel. It’s therapeutic for me to get my thoughts out there for someone to read. I spent so many years keeping my feelings closed up so tight that I feel anxious (and then angry and resentful, which I sometimes turn inward) whenever I feel like I’m being suppressed.

Maybe one day I will have advanced to the point where I can talk openly about my feelings to anyone. Maybe that’s not really advancement. I don’t really know. Maybe I need someone to help me again to understand what’s healthy and what isn’t. Or maybe it’s just trial and error.

My bookshelf has run out of unread books, but I needed something to keep myself occupied. So I started reading Ender’s Game again. It really is a great book.

I ran across a paragraph that I identified with today. Ender had been made a commander, so his life started going down a different path from his closest friend, Alai.

The next day [Ender] passed Alai in the corridor, and they greeted each other, touched hands, talked, but they both knew that there was a wall now. It might be breached, that wall, sometime in the future, but for now the only real conversation between them was the roots that had already grown low and deep, under the wall, where they could not be broken. The most terrible thing, though, was the fear that the wall could never be breached … from the moment we are not together, Alai is a stranger, for he has a life now that will be no part of mine, and that means that when I see him we will not know each other.

It made me think about the friendships I had that are like that now. For a while now, I haven’t talked to many of the people I went to college with. That’s just the way life is. People move on. Nothing lasts forever. They meet their future wives or husbands, and then they fade away a little. Or maybe their path is slowly veering off from yours because of different values or ambitions. That’s life. You go where you can find a job or acceptance.

I think living alone is helping me solidify my self-acceptance. I used to hang on too tightly to my friends, relying on them for self-esteem. Then when they weren’t around as much, I felt like a piece of me had gone with them. You know, I don’t really know if that behavior is healthy or not. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t.

Life goes on.

I hate TV commercials for praise and worship albums. They make me want to gag sometimes.

I’m a sucker for ‘consoling’ people. Heh. I need to not be as eager. Maybe it’s because it makes me feel needed.

So, I ordered all the parts I need for a gaming computer. I had been thinking about building one for a few months. I’m excited. Hopefully the parts will be here by Wednesday or Thursday, and then let the carnage begin.