I’m all nervous. I’m, tentatively, starting in a relationship at the moment and it’s been a couple of years since I’ve had one that’s lasted more than a few sweaty gropes, so my nerves are all-a-jangle all the time. Through a pervading sense of alienation through my youth, I’ve grown up as a wholly independent person who can be entertained by the smallest of things, which gives me an odd tolerance and hence predilection for the utterly boring. However, merely because I’m living through a situation a little different from the norm, it feels oddly wrong to be sharing the majority of my time with another individual, even though I want to.
I also keep finding myself grimacing to myself whenever I think about the future. I have a problem with the future, a real tooth-grinding, lip-curling problem. I just can’t handle the concept. I think it might be that whenever I think of a possible scenario in the future, whether different from my current lazy-arse immensely secure position here or not, I feel a little twinge of terror at the narrowing of the scope of future life opportunities available. Oddly, when the actuality of change comes about, when the scene I’m living through shifts and twizzles like a rotating stage, I tend to be quite good at coping with it (if a little confused) possibly because of the total relief derived from such a removal of tension.
Perhaps it’s the pressure of expectation again; another thing I simply can’t take is the friendly, vicarious, wishes of family and friends for you to do well in whatever you do (though obviously they’d prefer you to do well along so-and-so lines, because it’s grand to know someone who works for The Times.) I hate disappointing people, but I hate them forcing an obligation on me to make them happy by altering who I am. I’m keen to create my own ideas and opportunities to entertain them, but not necessarily at the expense of said narrowing future.
Anyway, it’s just nerves. I’ll work through it, one way or another.