Human Connection, Such A Fickle Thing
Human connection, one of the most powerful yet fickle things in the world.
Humans are communal by nature. We seek acceptance, some more than others. We are strong as a pack but what happens when the pack turns against you? Especially when you are so young.
I learned early on that people leave. That is just the cycle I have been on so I taught myself to be okay with solitude. Now that I am older, I find peace in my own company but peace and loneliness are not the same thing. And sometimes loneliness is louder.
Human connection, so close but always just out of reach. Every time I feel like I have it, it slips through my fingers. I keep asking myself what is wrong with me. I have even asked others and every time they tell me the same thing. “You are a great friend.” Then they disappear. They do not respond to my texts. They make excuses. They choose to be around other people instead of me. Rejection after rejection after rejection. So I stopped waiting for them to reject me. I learned how to reject myself.
You cannot get too close because I know you will probably leave. Introduction. Rejection. Introduction. Betrayal. It usually comes to an end and it usually ends badly so I taught myself not to care. This is not some woe is me message. I know I am not perfect. I never claimed to be. I am not the kind of person to cater to everyone’s emotions. I am a wall made of stone in the middle of the sea, unmoved and untouched. But human connection, real human connection, requires you to be the sea. It demands you to move with the tides, to welcome every wave, to open yourself to the unpredictable flow of people’s shifting emotions. I am not the sea.
I have spent decades perfecting my wall, shaping each stone with precision. With every lesson in rejection, every moment of betrayal, I have made it taller. Higher. Stronger. What once was a simple barrier has become a fortress, impossible for the average person to climb. Just when you think you are close, just when your fingers grasp the edge, a wave from the sea sweeps you away. I am not the sea but I have learned how to use it to my advantage, making it harder for human connection, such a fickle thing.
I wish I knew how to let people drift into my waters, how to welcome them gently without fear of needing to push them away. I wish I knew how to soften, how to flow instead of remaining unmoved. But still I am here, made of stone. Anytime you climb up you get pushed back down. Because I am safest when I am alone.
I have learned to reject myself from the human connection I crave. I have built a stone wall so high that no one can climb over it. But now I wonder if I made the mistake of thinking solitude was freedom. Maybe instead of protecting myself, I built a prison. And maybe I am not just its architect. Maybe I am its only inmate. Because what is solitude when it is no longer a choice? What is freedom if it is only an illusion? And if I have spent my life running from connection only to find myself trapped by its absence, was I ever truly free?
Human connection, such a fickle thing.
