A New Year

I think I spoiled someone's special moment the night before last (New Year's Eve). I was working - a 15-hour day for me - and the assistant manager, Susan, was taking a moment to sit and talk with her boyfriend Chuck, who was dining in the restaurant. Her son was there, too, and I stopped by to chat with them.

Chuck mentioned that it was their two-year anniversary that night. I thought that was nice, but instead of just saying that, I mentioned that two years ago that night, I asked someone to marry me and they said "yes" ... then five months later said "no." There's no way to escape a moment that awkward.

I'm 24-years old and I am the General Manager of a restaurant owned by a successful Baltimore-area restaurateur. I have worked every day except Christmas for the past month and a half, I have worked 100+ hour work weeks, and I have missed out on family occasions and any prospect of a social life since taking this job. I've been cheated on (essentially) by the person I was dating (but not really), and I've noticed that this state is a vast wasteland when it comes to viable dating options. My friends here, who can be counted twice on one hand (even if it were missing a finger), are all busy almost all the time, and the sister who would hang out with me works a schedule that seems to always conflict with mine.

If I get my debt knocked off and my credit back on track; if I study for the LSATs or any other graduate-level tests; if I find some way to set my mind to the task of going back to school; if I motivate myself to start writing creatively again; if I do any or all of these things, will it be worth it?

I feel relatively stable in my financial situation, though I could certainly benefit greatly in accomplishing my first task by receiving a moderate increase in pay. I feel somewhat accomplished in being a GM of a newly established restaurant. And I'm certainly not without pride in my character, being, I believe, a good and decent person.

But in the end, does any of that matter if I find myself this alone when all is said and done?

At the start of a new year, recalling where I was a year ago - and a year before that, and a year before that - I am overwhelmed by a significant sense of personal failure and alienation in my friendships and relationships.

One of those two friends I mentioned lost one of his parents last year, early in the year. I didn't find out until I came home at the end of summer. Where was I when he might have needed a friend to lean on? How was I not connected enough to even be aware of that?

When I get this far in discussing with people the alienation I feel, I have observed a strange phenomenon occur: there is a subtle force in my mind pushing these thoughts back, as though a part of me is desperately trying to keep all of these emotions hidden from the world.

In its own way, is my mind sheltering me from further exposing myself to what I fear is "pity outreach" - that extension of friendship that comes when someone feels obligated by guilt to express some concern for another person's loneliness and self-pity?

Fuck that bullshit, I don't want it.

I just want an answer to this question: where are all my "friends?"