Venting Vents

In my private life, I’m a private person.

Love of My Life, CollegeEditiontm, used to comment that he was a people person, and I’m an audience person. I’m good on a stage, and I can turn just about any place into a stage. I’m not so great with people.

He was good with people, but he was easily embarrassed.

Or maybe I jumped into one fountain too many. Either way, he has now been sent to live on a rabbit farm in California. If I could get him back for a couple of weeks or months, I think he’d make a really nice buffer zone between me… and the extroverts.

Right now, my world is a little bit scrambled. It’s a lot scrambled. And all I want is some time alone.

I’m having trouble getting that. Between family, friends, well meaning co-workers, and Facebook (and I’m not even on Facebook.) I’m feeling a little stampeded.

I’m thinking about changing my name and moving to France.

I’m thinking about whether a relationship with people who don’t know me, and don’t want to is worth pursuing, just because they’re family, and they want to pretend.

To be honest, I’m thinking it’s not.

I’m tired of keeping secrets for people who never respect my privacy.

I’m tired of waiting to be “best friends when you’re older.”

I’m tired of “family” being a euphemism for “I get to do whatever I want to you, and you get to do what you’re told. We’re family.”

But mostly, I’m just tired.

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