baby, I’m so lonely

I feel as if this always happens the week after I visit Seattle. It’s like I spend the whole weekend on a social high, and then immediately afterward I am cut off and suffer through withdrawal. And usually it takes a couple of days and I sort of level off and return to my usual shitty anti-shenanigans. It’s not… great, but it’s not the worst, either.

I suppose I’m particularly off-balance this time around, because last weekend was astonishingly excellent. And this was easily because I got to spend a huge portion of time getting to interact and work together with some really cool people (one of them being my best friend.) I love that I got to have that experience, but it makes life here fall flat.

I’m frustrated because I feel like the relationships that I’ve been slowly cultivating up north are constantly being put on hold—I have these limited, concentrated interactions with people who I really want to know better and see more often, but then I have to come back here and not so much as speak to them for months at a time. This warps the way I view those relationships, and I end up making them into a bigger deal than they need to be. This, coupled with the fact that I don’t have relationships of any kind with anyone here, has left me suffering through horribly intense loneliness.

It’s like nausea the way it hangs around. Sometimes it seems like I can escape it for a little bit, but then it comes back to weigh on me again like I’ve swallowed a stone. Every part of me is heavy, and slowly being dragged downward. It’s as if someone turned up the gravity. Every reminder of the fun I was having just a few days ago is now a twist of the invisible hand tightly gripping my stomach, and it refuses to let go. I honestly almost feel ill. And I just… I can’t move beyond it. There’s a constant dull, aching tightness in the back of my throat and no matter what I do, I can’t make it go away. I feel like things will never be good again.

If I’m being honest, I wasn’t in great shape before I left, either. My apartment is in shambles. I desperately need to do dishes (and have been rewashing the same ones over and over again when necessary.) I’ve been sleeping on the floor for weeks now. My diet has been absolutely awful because I can’t bring myself to put in any effort, and I don’t remember the last time I consciously decided to work out. Before, though, I had the promise of a weekend in Seattle to hold me over. Now, I know I’m nearing the end of my stint in Vancouver, but the draw is not the same. Some of these tentative connections that I have established are going to be cut off. Summer means that these people, who are students, will be leaving. I’m frightened of having to rework those relationships. Who knows what might happen in 3 months? A lot of things can change.

And at the same time, I feel sort of guilty, because I ought to be satiated by the fact that I’m going to be living with two of my favorite people. And I guess I should just say outright that one of the people I’m going to miss is a boy. Which is so dumb. I know. I just.. want to get to know him. Is that so wrong? I’m trying not to get ahead of myself (with some good reminders from people who know what they’re talking about ;)) but it’s hard when everything seems to be slipping through my fingers. The uncertainty of it all makes me feel as if things aren’t at all in my control, and my inclination is to panic. I’m too far away to impact much, and when I do get there, I’m afraid it will be too late. :/

The worst part of these far apart opportunities is that each one leaves me wondering “what if?” I always feel as if there are things I should have done differently, or tried, or not done at all. My chances feel very limited and that makes me overanalyze everything. It’s not like if I leave something unsaid or undone, I can fix it the next day or the next week. These restrictions, whether they are merely my own perceptions or not, are painful.

I think I may just worry too much. :/ But it’s hard not to when everything feels like it has to be set in stone, like every potential mistake can’t be corrected.

Worst of all, I can’t shake this overwhelming feeling that the good times are never coming back.