The Outsider

It is hard being the outsider. It is hard for me to stand behind the glass. Watching all of my friends moving on without me, being happy, and having fun and I am here stuck watching from a distance. I hate that I have purposefully let go of people I love and care about because it hurts too much to be so far away from them. I hate that the hurt was too much to deal with. I try not to think about it so much anymore, but it sneaks back in my train of thought every now and again. I miss some of them. I try not to, but I do. Just because I have let them go doesn’t mean that I don’t care. On the contrary, I care a lot. I care so much that not being able to actively participate in their life has pulled me away. I feel like they deserve friends who can be there. I seclude myself in hopes not to hurt myself or any other person. I may have done just the opposite. But I can’t change things, I can’t perform magic tricks or miracles. I don’t have a private jet, and I certainly don’t have a set of wings to lift me up and get me there to apologize. What is there to do. I try to reach out and pull my hand back before they notice. I guess the fear that my hand will be rejected if they did see it weighs me down. But maybe I worry too much over nothing. I don’t see anything on the other side saying they feel the same as I do. I don’t see a hand reaching out for me. I haven’t seen a spot of effort on their behalf trying to get ahold of me. Maybe I am just blind, or maybe I see things clearer than the glass I hide behind. I miss things, and people, and conversations. I miss the pictures and the memories, and the texts. I miss getting out and actually seeing people smile in person and not through a facebook post. Part of me just wants to be on the receiving end of everything. I put myself here for a reason, but even I don’t truly know that reason anymore. The glass has fogged over from getting to close. My visions have blurred and my words are muffled. I stand here and the only thing I see these days is a rugged reflection of myself beyond the smoke and mirrors. I no longer see things for what they are. I suppose maybe I am jaded, fading into a vaste array of self pity and loathing. Maybe I am meant to remain on the outside. Perhaps this is as close as I can get. I wipe away my thoughts and wants and wishes with every wipe of the glass. I guess I will pull up a chair, I am going to be here for awhile anyways. Staring, wondering, just how it feels to be on the inside.

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10 thoughts on “The Outsider

    1. I have made it out of the depression stage, after a long time being stuck like that. But I do still miss people, and wish things weren’t so difficult. I do know that I am pretty much the root for all my anxieties, and issues because I live in my head. I appreciate the words of encouragement though, and I will definitely try to keep strong 🙂

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  1. many hugs to you – i know this feeling – sometimes it is worse than anything and others it is what it is. I, however, always feel like an outsider. I have never felt like a part of a group . In many ways I have gotten used to it, but honestly, it still hurt deep inside and yes, I am the root of the issue. Why do you suppose we do this?

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    1. I wish I knew why I did it to myself. I have always been the type to pull away from people and made my own reasons why. That, may I add, were and are usually irrational. I seem to be incapable of having friends. Maybe it stems from a fear of rejection or because I have been used by those who I did allow close. Either way, it sucks being on the outside. and I am sorry that you know the feeling too. It’s not something I would wish on anybody.

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      1. mine comes from growing up with an alcoholic father – always staying away and isolating myself from people. Never being able to have friends over – I think this has become a part of my genetic make-up in a way and yes, there is the fear factor.

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      2. I had a similar upbringing. It is hard to break out of it when that is how you’ve been molded since childhood. I certainly hope that someday I can learn to overcome it. But I don’t know if I will. Not being able to be social as a child is definitely hard.

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